


A Witch By Another Name

by ZeldaByrdeBishop



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaByrdeBishop/pseuds/ZeldaByrdeBishop
Summary: Theo Putnam discovers that Sabrina's Aunt Zelda had a relationship with Dorothea Putnam.But how come no one knows? Are some secrets better left buried?
Relationships: Theo Putnam & Zelda Spellman, Zelda Spellman/ Dorothea Putnam
Comments: 94
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

Zelda Spellman was the last person that Theo Putnam thought he would see at Dorothea Putnam’s grave side… and yet here she was, a small bouquet of flowers in her hands, on a Tuesday, in the middle of January. Curiosity overcame his desire to pay his respects. Why the hell would Zelda Spellman be here? 

Quietly, he crept forward, hiding behind a mausoleum for a Judith Eddenburough, peering over a cracked concrete angel at the red headed witch. 

“Dorothea,” Theo heard Zelda coo in an uncharacteristically soft voice, summoning Theo's strong relative. Dorothea immediately shimmered into the air appearing before the woman. Theo watched as Zelda’s posture changed, shifting and relaxing, despite her eyes not moving away from the grave. Could she not see her? Dorothea was right there, standing in front of her, clear as day, but Zelda’s eyes stayed trained on the gravestone beyond the ghost. 

“The Greendale Thirteen came back - were summoned back. I don’t know who did it, I tried to retrace the magic in the air, but it… the connection fried - or rather, popped.”

Zelda was silent for a moment before straightening her back, standing taller, her gaze lifting to the trees of the Greendale woods.

“I worry it was you. Did you send them back? Are you angry with me? I know it’s been too long. I know….I just - Sabrina has been - and the  _ Church  _ and Faustus. He’s falling and I think that I can fix his ideals. Remind him that I - that witches -” she pleaded, tears falling freely, her fingers unable to keep up with the spillage to the point that she knelt down, setting the flowers at Dorothea's fixed feet to pull out her lace edged handkerchief. 

Theo watched, his brown eyes huge as his mouth gaped open as Dorothea knelt down in front of Zelda, taking the witch's face in her hands, before gently touching their foreheads together.

“Zelda. I’m not angry with you. I could never be angry with you.”

Theo’s body became a hot wire. He had to tell Sabrina! Zelda Spellman and Dorothea Putnam were  _ together _ ! (Or had been...) This was too much to keep to himself! He had to tell Sabrina! Theo took off running! His feet skittering around gravestones and into the Greendale woods before he was cut back by two hands clutching at his arms.

“Theo, stop!” Zelda demanded as she spun the boy around to face her. “Theo, this stays here! I don’t know what you heard or what you think you heard, but this doesn’t leave here. Do you hear me young man!?” The witch chided, her voice calm and demanding in contrast to her fearful eyes. 

Theo’s eyes narrowed and was about to retort, to claim that he had the right to know his relative’s history and needed to know if Sabrina had known as well, when Dorothea appeared behind Zelda, placing her hand on the witch’s shoulder, Zelda didn’t seem to notice. 

“Do as she says, boy. This secret is far more dangerous and complex than you know,” The ghost stated as Zelda’s spine realigned, her fingers slowly releasing Theo’s arms. 

“How?! Why is this a secret?! Does Sabrina know? Is it a witch thing? Why didn’t you write about this in your journals? It’s not illegal now to be g-”

“Theo!” Zelda stopped him, cutting him off, raising her hand. “Theo what journals?! I haven't written an journals and Sabrina doesn’t know. No one knows, not even Sabrina’s Aunt Hilda.” 

Theo stood there, frozen, looking between the two women. 

“Why?” What could there be to hide? Even if lesbianism was outlawed in their time, it wasn’t now. And why was there no mention of Zelda in Dorothea’s journals, the only witch that was ever mentioned by name was a witch named - Theo gasped, “Freya!” 

Dorothea’s eyes steeled behind Zelda’s confused shoulder.

“I beg your pardon?” The witch demanded.

Theo looked between the women and stood straighter, “Nothing! Nothing,” his eyes flitting between them nervously. 

Zelda’s eyes scanned Theo’s face and then turned slowly to look over her shoulder, “Who are you talking to? Who’s there?”

Zelda couldn’t see Dorothea. 

“No one…” Theo squeaked.

The witch turned back to Theo, analyzing his face before the light in her eyes suddenly sprang to life, “Dorothea! Is she here?! Theo can you... _ see  _ her?!”

Theo’s voice caught in his throat as he looked between them, uncertain of what to say. A pained expression came over Dorothea’s face as the ghost watched the witch turn back around, scanning the forest desperately for any visual sign of the ghost, coming up blind. 

Theo watched as Zelda’s back straightened, her vertebra aligning above her hips, squaring up to the truth before turning back to the boy. Her eyes back to their usual stoic shield. “Theo. You can’t tell anyone that I was out here. Especially not Sabrina.” 

“What could be so bad about you two being together?! Or...having been together? Why can’t I tell Sabrina?” Theo protested. 

“Theo Putnam,” Dorothea’s ghost scolded behind Zelda, her eyes fearful for the first time in their history known to the boy, giving him pause, “You will keep this secret for Zelda and I. You will keep this secret because if this secret gets out, Zelda will burn at the stake.”

Zelda looked at Theo for a while as his eyes moved back to her from the woods, “What did she tell you?”   
  


Theo looked up at the formidable witch, in shock, “She said that...if I told anyone you would be burned at the stake. Do witches still do that? What could be so bad?”

Zelda pursed her lips before re-squaring her shoulders to leave, “Nothing. Come on.”

Theo quickly followed her as she began walking through the woods, “Ms. Spellman. Wait! Please! Ms. Spellman! I- I want to hear about her, about Dorothea!” he pleaded, grabbing the older woman’s wrist in desperation. 

Zelda stopped and turned to look down at him, as his eyes looked back up at her. Begging her to tell him things he couldn’t know or ever discover from pictures in a family album. Theo - Dorothea. He even had her eyes. 

“Fine. But, if you tell a soul, I’ll skin you alive,” she threatened weightlessly, earning that classic Putnam ear to ear grin. “I mean it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Theo Putnam braced himself into Zelda Spellman’s side as he was suddenly teleported into what appeared to be Sabrina’s aunt’s bedroom. “Woah!” 

Zelda couldn’t help but smirk as Theo leaned against her bedpost, the boy’s smile growing, despite his slightly green face, “Can we do that again?!”  
Zelda chuckled, but didn’t reply, instead walking to her bedroom door, holding up her hands and chanting an incantation to soundproof and seal the room. “There. Now this room has been sealed against any outside intrusions,” Zelda claimed as the ghost of Dorothea casually strolled into the room with a smirk and an eye roll, inciting a giggle from Theo. 

Zelda crossed her arms in front of her, “Theo!? What is so funny?” Scolding him until a sudden shiver overtook her body as Dorothea blew onto her ear before moving past them both to stand beside Zelda’s vanity. The witch’s jaw dropped, only to immediately break into a small smile she quickly fought against by snaring her lower lip between her teeth, containing herself in order to speak, “I suppose I’ll have to tinker with my incantations to… keep away the ghosts as it appears some seem to manage their way in.”

Theo giggled again and looked around the room. For Zelda Spellman’s bedroom, it was much softer than he’d expected, less dark and scary. There was only one small gargoyle and not a guillotine in sight. There was even a bouquet of flowers in a white porcelain vase next to where her Aunt Dorothea stood, the position seemingly familiar in Dorothea’s body posture. 

Zelda leaned forward and gently patted the dark red silky quilted bedding, “Sit, Theo.” Her voice was soft, but still held control as she herself pulled up her vanity chair and sat down. “What is it you want to know about Dorothea?”

Theo hopped onto the high bed and looked down at the older witch, his brain full of questions he’d been dying to know the answers to, but they all just blurred together until the only question that came out of Theo’s mouth was, “Did- Did she have a favorite food?!”

Zelda’s smirk grew as she watched the boy, fondness growing in her eyes as she chuckled. “I don’t know. We never adamantly discussed favorite foods, although I can tell you she was quite adept at cooking. She had a knack for cooking venison that I have yet to find elsewhere.”

Despite the simplicity of the question and it’s answer, Theo soaked in every word. “How did you two meet?”

Zelda pursed her smiling lips, the smile dropping slightly as she looked a little beyond Theo, drawing up the memory, “We met in the woods… I was...practicing a spell, I believe. I was….. yes! I was practicing my conjuring, which was punishable by lashing at the time, which is why I was in the woods.”

“Lashing? Like whips?!”

Zelda swept her hand back and forth dismissively, “It’s a common punishment for witches and warlocks alike, although the ratio of rules for witches compared to warlocks was and still is skewed. Witches were meant to practice herbalism, potions, and astrology almost exclusively, and even potion composition was a new privilege. I simply stole other warlock’s texts and studied them in secret. When I met your Dorothea… I was working on conjuring up a rabbit, when I heard a rustle in the bushes behind me.”

_ Zelda heard a rustle behind her and quickly spun around, her hands out in front of her brimming with magic, “Who goes there!?” _

_ The young witch scanned the bushes, peering through the varying leaves until her opponent moved just so slightly, the sun glinting off of the barrel of a gun, sending a light flare through the shelter of the bush leaves. Zelda quickly grabbed the gun with her magic and shot the offending barrel out of the perpetrator’s hand into the grass behind her. She was about to grab a hold of her opponent's throat when a woman dressed in slacks and a black men’s waistcoat stepped out. Her jaw was strong and her brown hair was pulled into a tight bun behind her. “Wait! I mean you no harm.” _

_ “The gun implies otherwise,” sneered Zelda as she took a step forward, her hand raised as if to choke the woman.  _

_ “I was simply hunting for venison and pelts…. I sell them at the market. My name is Dorothea Putnam, I am no enemy to your kind.” _

_ “My Kind?” _

_ “Witches.” _

_ Zelda’s blood went cold and she thought about denying such claims, but knew with her gun trick and hand work there could be no denying what the woman claimed. “What do you know of witches?” _

_ The masculine woman took a step forward, her hands raised in surrender, “I know of the war against you. I brought 13 of your kind across the ocean in hopes of bringing them safety in the Americas. I promise you, I mean you no harm.”  _

_ Zelda watched the woman, standing straight and tall, uncertain of how to proceed from this point. Why would a mortal risk ocean travel to protect a witch, let alone 13. _

_ “........may I have my rifle back?” _

_ The red headed witch gave the woman an accosted look. _

_ “I have 13 mouths to feed and 13 bodies to clothe,” Dorothea reasoned, taking another cautious step forward as Zelda took a step back before speaking.  _

_ “I should kill you for what you know.” _

_ Dorothea looked at the witch, her eyes gently scanning the witch’s lush red curls and slender figure clad in a corseted forest green dress, with smart black laced boots. “And I almost killed you, thinking you were a deer, for whatever spell you were practicing in the private of this woods.”  _

_ Zelda slowly took down her hand, allowing it to rest at her side, watching the woman for a long while before stepping to the side, away from the rifle behind her.  _

_ Dorothea calmly took another step forward, analyzing the red headed witch’s body posture. It was tense, but more defiant than fearful. She couldn’t help but admire how the speckled sunspots highlighted her hair and against the dark trees around them. She’d met many witches, but this woman was the only one who truly resembled what she’d been warned a witch should look like. She was exquisite, poised, brimming with a fiery danger that could only have derived from something divine. This witch may be known as one forged by the devil, but she was irrevocably created by God.  _

_ Slowly, Dorothea approached the witch, testing her boundaries as she knelt down beside her, taking up the rifle and slowly standing back up, her face only a few inches away from the witch’s. “Thank you.” _

_ The witch’s chin raised and her eyes flitted over Dorothea’s face quickly and erratically before settling on the woman’s brown eyes. “Tell me. What compels a mortal to risk her life to save the lives of witches?” _

_ Dorothea smiled gently, “Humanity. Who is anyone to sentence an entire race of beings to death simply because you don’t understand them? It’s inhumane and unfathomable.”  _

_ Zelda watched her eyes and then looked into the forest behind Dorothea, before gesturing to the woman to look. _

_ Dorothea turned and saw it, the largest buck she’d ever seen in the woods of Greendale standing not 10 feet away from them grazing on the grass by a blackberry bush. She quickly brought up her rifle and lined up the killing shot. She wouldn’t shoot unless it would be a quick and clean kill.  _

_ BANG. _

_ The buck fell and she smiled, turning back around to face the witch, but there was no sign of her there. The only thing left was the lingering scent of amber and jasmine to convince her she hadn’t been dreaming. She never even got her name.  _

__

“And that was the first thing I’d ever successfully conjured,” Zelda boasted, leaning back into her chair with a now lit cigarette, dragging its lethal smoke into her lungs before blowing it into the air. 

“I prayed to every god I could think of that I would find and see her again,” said Dorothea quietly, watching the prideful woman before her, her eyes shining with their own praise. 

Theo smiled watching. He’d never seen this softness in Dorothea’s eyes, she was gentle with him, but not like this. It seemed almost out of place to be directed towards the woman Theo almost feared due to her reputation and generally harsh tone. “I can’t believe you conjured a whole deer on your first try!”

“I needed to make sure Dorothea would have something to shoot, so I could find her at the market the next day,” Zelda replied matter-of-factly as she flicked the ash off the tip of her cigarette into her ashtray. 

_ Dorothea couldn’t stop the ear to ear grin that overtook her face as she spied the red headed witch from the woods walking towards her booth in the Greendale market square. She’d worn her brilliant curls up, exposing her long neck and strong shoulders, and a rusty brown gown that might have almost passed for peasant’s dress if the bodice detailing hadn’t been quite so intricate. “And what might I have done that the aristocrats have descended on my lowly booth?” _

_ The witch simply smirked and looked up at the furs Dorothea displayed. “You really are quite the hunter.” _

_ “Thank you, milady. See any that interest you?”  _

_ Zelda ran her finger down a copper fox piece before tangling her fingers with its tail as she looked back at the woman, “If I can be frank, I’m more interested in your name.” _

_ “Dorothea Putnam, ma’am and yours?” _

_ “Zelda Spellman.” _

_ Dorothea smiled, “Well, Ms. Spellman, if you would like I’ll give you that fox piece for free after the gracious deer you pointed out to me yesterday. That deer will feed us for a week.” _

_ Zelda smirked and took the fox piece down running the soft fur through her fingers, “Your craftsmanship is divine.” _

_ “My father taught me. He didn’t have a boy to pass his knowledge down to, but he got me-” And with that a blood curdling scream rang out over the market square as all eyes immediately pinned on a woman who was thrown to the ground by a large, burly man.  _

_ “Please, Sir!” She cried as he raised his cleaver.  _

_ “You know what the Bible says about those who steal!” He spit before he brought down the cleaver only to burst into a screaming pillar of flames.  _

_ “She’s a witch!” _

_ “Get the priest!” _

_ “Quick! Tie her down! We need silver chains!” _

_ “Dear, God!” _

_ Zelda stood ghost white and frozen as she watched the puritan town mobilize, trapping the witch within seconds, writhing and screaming under the heavy silver chains. _

_ “Wait! Stop!” yelled Dorothea as she lept out from behind the booth, running over. “Stop! She was terrified! Stop! You can’t do this! Karinna! Let her go!” she protested trying to get through the crowd as the witch was thrown into the back of a prison wagon. _

_ Zelda watched as a tall man grabbed Dorothea and pushed her back, spitting on the woman, “Get back man-woman! You don’t know the danger you’re dealing with here! Take her to the prison!” He yelled back to the crowd as the barred wagon was locked and pulled away. “Murderous WITCH!” _

_ Zelda couldn’t help but flinch and clutched the fox fur tighter to her chest, her eyes fixing on Dorothea, who slowly rose as the smell of burning flesh and the sounds of the town’s women and children’s screams filled the air as the man’s body burned. Satan in hell, help them all.  _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Domestic Violence 
> 
> This chapter is a bit longer as I have to establish a bit of where Zelda is in the Church of Night, but hopefully that is an anti-problem.
> 
> I've also felt for a long time, due to how both Zelda and Hilda walk through the world, that it's likely their home life wasn't all that pleasant. I also feel that this is one of the reasons Edward Spellman fought for witches rights as he witnessed how a lack of them affects witches first hand. So this is my take on the type of familial situation they might have lived in. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! This story is fun to write! There is still so much to unpack! <3

Theo sat, shell shocked, unable to imagine what it would be like to watch all of that unfold. To have to watch another witch get shoved in the back of a cart to what would certainly be her death. To not be able to stop it in fear of exposing yourself. “Miss Spellman…”

Zelda stood up, subtly shaking off the memory as she propped the cigarette holder against the ashtray, walking towards the closet, not noticing as the holder began to slip - but didn’t fall - as Dorothea stopped it, the motion as natural to the ghost as breathing.

Zelda opened the closet door and casually pulled out a few furs that were familiar to Theo. “No way!” He cried out as he reached for the fox fur. “No way! These were the furs Aunt Dorothea made?! Sick!” Theo exclaimed as he clutched the fur in awe, his fingers running through it impressed by the excellent condition of them after centuries, but quickly determined they must be enchanted. He smiled as he brought the fur up to his nose, smelling only Zelda’s amber and jasmine perfume, but found this not as disappointing as he thought it would be, looking up to smile at Zelda, his eyes gleaming, finally able to touch something he knew had real meaning to Dorothea. 

Zelda gently smiled back, holding a mink fur, her fingers digging into the soft fur, as sadness dug into her heart. “She even made me this,” Zelda cooed as she pulled out a small stuffed rabbit from a locked drawer in her vanity. The rabbit was clearly made out of real rabbit fur and as slightly disgusting as Theo found the taxidermied toy, his heart melted at the tender way the fearsome witch handled it, holding it as if it were more precious than all of the money in the world. Theo wondered if this toy was one of the reasons the Spellman’s house seemed to be riddled with rabbit memorabilia. 

The room was quiet for a moment as Zelda stood, gazing down at the fur and toy, Dorothea only inches behind her, watching the way the witch’s eyes threatened to fill with tears, before reaching out and gently taking Zelda’s wrist, causing the witch to shiver. Zelda immediately stiffened as a tear shook free, quickly moving away, putting the rabbit back and wiping away the tear as she turned her back to Theo. This is why witches could never fall for mortals. Zelda wouldn’t wish this searing pain on anyone. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the other side of the vanity, knowing she wouldn’t find Dorothea there, knowing she never would. Instead, she turned and sat next to Theo on the bed with the fur, pulling her voice into its usual curt tone. “Now where was I?” 

Dorothea’s gaze dropped to the floor.

_Zelda’s heeled boots clicked violently against the stone floors of the Academy of The Unseen Arts as she rushed to the library._ _  
__“Zelda, where are you going in such a hurry?” Her sister, Hildegard, asked as she flew past her, knocking Hilda’s books out of her arts._

_ “Never you mind, sister, or I’ll make you eat a toad,” Zelda snapped back as she flew through the halls, bursting through the library doors. There was only one person Zelda knew would be able to do something about this quickly. There was only one person who had the influence aside from her brother in the eyes of the coven and more particularly - the high priest. _

_ “Faustus!” _

_ The warlock didn’t look up from where his nose was buried in ancient texts. “Zelda. You know better than to disturb a warlock while he studies. This is no place for an insolent witch. I have a guest lecture to give tomorrow and if I’m not prepared for all manner of instruction on the topic, you know well how badly that would look in the eyes of your father.” _

_ Zelda quickly knelt next to him on the floor, her hand resting on his knee, surprising him. “Faustus, it’s important. I don’t know who else to turn to,” she whispered harshly, not sure if they were alone.  _

_“Zelda! I -”_ _  
__“Greendale’s begun a witch hunt, Faustus!” This brought him pause. “There was a witch in the market square today who stole, she was presumably from the old country. The shop owner retaliated and she shot him up in flames! The townsman took her away! Faustus, everything that’s happening in Salem - it’s about to happen here!”_

_ The warlock sat there frozen looking into the witch’s eyes. He could see that she was telling the truth. He couldn’t recall a time that her eyes were as fearful as they were now. If Zelda Spellman was afraid, no matter how much he would like to disregard her, he knew he too should be fearful. Despite her distracting beauty, she was the bravest and smartest witch he knew and whether or not he could admit it out loud - he trusted her judgement.  _

_ Salem, like many other New England towns, was currently in a state of disarray as the town had discovered their kind and their weaknesses. The number of covens in the new country were dwindling rapidly as the false god continued to give his subjects new ways of combating them. “You’re positive.” _

_ “Yes,” Zelda promised, her fingers tightening on both his knee and the fox fur in her other hand.  _

_ “This will need to be brought to the high priest.” _

_ Zelda nodded. “He wouldn’t have believed me, but this can’t be delayed. He’ll listen to you.”  _

_ Faustus nodded and patted her hand before standing and walking out of the library, leaving Zelda on the floor. If the coven was in danger as she says, the high priest would forgive the neglect of his studies.  _

_ Quietly, the witch let out a shaky breath, resting her head against the table, fighting to slow her fearful heart rate, praising Satan for Faustus.  _

_ *** _

_ It didn’t take more than 2 hours before Edward came into the library, knocking three times in quick succession twice, their secret knock, rousing Zelda out of the shadows of the library where he knew she would be hiding -studying. “The high priest has called a coven meeting.” _

_ Zelda’s face screwed, “Whatever for?” _

_ Edward shrugged and smiled, grabbing her arm to walk her down, “Who knows. Maybe he found my bathroom graffiti. I drew Faustus as a pig!” _

_ Zelda chuckled and hit her shoulder against his gently, “You’re so horrible to him.” _

_ “Yeah, well he’s horrible to everyone else. I wish you would stop talking to him.” _

_ Zelda said nothing in response as they walked into the hall, taking their places with their family, sandwiched between their mother and Hilda.  _

_ “Good Evening,” began the high priest. “I know you are all wondering why I have brought us all together tonight. I bring you all bad tidings. A trusted apprentice of mine has declared that he’s witnessed the beginning of a witch hunt in Greendale and upon a visit to town myself, I’m sorry to declare that he is right. We owe Mr. Faustus Blackwood our lives. Now, over much deliberation, the council has bestowed their blessing on my plan to eradicate this problem. I’ve determined that we must cleanse the town of Greendale of it’s mortal folk. You will all meet back here tomorrow evening for further instruction. You are dismissed. Praise Satan.” _

_ “Praise Satan,” the congregation echoed as Zelda and Edward locked eyes and Zelda steeled herself. She couldn’t rely on Edward to speak up on this issue. He didn’t know what she knew and she knew waiting to speak could cost mortals their lives, could cost Dorothea her life, so she quickly moved past Hilda to the aisle.  _

_ “Your Excellency! I know it’s not my place to speak, but I believe it may be unwise to try to wage war with these mortals.,” she pleaded, kneeling down, raising her hand.  _

_ “It is certainly not your place to speak, Zelda Spellman. How dare you interrupt this congregation -” _

_ “They have weapons! Chains of silver, Damascus steel, fire! Warlock lives will be lost.” _

_ Edward immediately moved and stood behind her, “Father, forgive my sister’s intrusion, but I know this to be true. Now that they’ve caught wind of us, they will be prepared. By this time they’ve reached out to leaders all over New England. They will have force. Your Excellency permitting, I will stay with Faustus and our Elders to work on a plan that will not only extinguish the witch hunt, but also ensure that our coven stays safe.” _

_ The high priest glared at the two of them. His eyes shot daggers, but he slowly nodded. “I will meet with you, Faustus, and the Elders in my office. Coven dismissed.” _

_ Edward reached down and gently squeezed Zelda’s shoulder before stepping over her to join the men in the high priest’s office. Slowly, Zelda stood and looked over at her father’s enraged red face. He said nothing, but the rage in his eyes was clear. Zelda knew what was coming.  _

_ When they arrived home, she was immediately grabbed by the arm. “HOW DARE YOU?! YOU EMBARRASSED ME IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE COVEN!” _

_ “Father, I’m sorry. People would die! Edward could have died! YOU could have died! Please!” _

_ But her pleas were no use as he dragged her away from her mother and Hilda to his office, slamming the door shut. Zelda knew better than to fight it as he went behind his desk, slamming the desk drawer after pulling out his cat-o-nine tails. “60. 30 for your unruly tongue and 30 for the embarrassment you’ve bestowed upon your high priest and I. You ungrateful woman.” _

_ Zelda’s shoulders tensed as she nodded and turned, bracing her hands against her father’s desk. She knew better than to argue.  _

_ She said nothing as he unbuttoned her gown and unlaced her corset, stripping her to her white cotton underdress and then began the lashing. With each crack of the whip Zelda prayed to the dark lord and reminded herself of the witch she watched the townsman shove behind bars and how she may not even be alive anymore. She reminded herself of Dorothea who ran after the witch and defended her against the men. She reminded herself that she couldn’t let Dorothea die at the hands of her coven, even if she didn’t quite understand why. She reminded herself not to let a peep out of her mouth, no matter how painful the lashes were.  _

_ Finally, her punishment ended and her father left to wash off the whip. Silently, she strapped herself back into her corset and her gown and resquared her shoulders before opening her father’s office door and stepping outside. Hilda was there, wide eyed and shivering, holding a balm. Without a word, Zelda took the balm from Hilda and roughly shoved her into the wall before walking into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. _

_ Her mother watched her from where she sat alone at the table, “You shouldn’t have shoved your sister. You know how fragile she is.”  _

_ Zelda debated throwing a glass at her, but chose the wine instead. “She’s stronger than you think, Francis,” she replied before turning on her heel to apply the balm in the safety of her and Hilda’s bathroom upstairs. _

“Did your father really hit you with a whip 60 times?” Theo asked gently, his eyes watering ever so slightly at the thought. Zelda looked down at him, surprised to see such a reaction. 

“Yes, Theo…… as was customary,” she often forgot mortals played by different rules. 

He nodded quietly. “I think witches need feminism.”

Zelda couldn’t help but laugh, despite the solemn nature of the statement, “You’re quite right Theo. Although, things have changed very drastically for the better since the 17th century, I can assure you,” she comforted, gently brushing some of his soft brown hair behind his ear. “Your Aunt Dorothea was also a great comfort. I relied on it.”

Theo looked to where Dorothea stood, her jaw was tense and squared, remembering that night. “I was no comfort. I didn’t even know. She was simply brave. She’ll deny it, but I relied often on her bravery throughout this time and if I ever encounter the spirit of Reginald Spellman his soul will never see peace.” 

Theo smiled and looked back up to Zelda, who watched the corner intensely, her mind clearly working, but saying nothing about her mind's wanderings as she looked back down to Theo. “Once Hilda’s balm had worked it’s magic enough, I conjured a picnic basket and went off to track down your Aunt’s psychic trail.”

_ “Miss Spellman?” Dorothea asked, surprised to see the elegant witch on her humble cabin’s doorstep. “Please come in!” _

_ Zelda smiled as she stepped inside, “I brought food for you and the other witches.” _

_ “And why should we accept it?” demanded a cold witch from the back of the open one room cabin. Zelda could see by the blankets and pillows organized into a large circle around the floor surrounding an empty circle that this was where they all slept and ate. The fire in the hearth kept the cabin cozy, despite its lack of decoration.  _

_ “Acts of kindness are always appreciated, Desdemona,” Dorothea scolded, gently placing her hand on Zelda’s sore back leading her into the cabin to the circle, offering Zelda a seat on the blankets that made up her bed. “Witches, this is Miss Zelda Spellman and she is to be a revered guest in this house.” _

_ Zelda’s smile brightened as Dorthea sat beside her, giving the other witches the cue to gather, “I’ve brought sandwiches and wine.” _

_ “Praise Satan,” a silver haired witch praised as she sat, accepting the sandwich and glass Zelda handed her graciously.  _

_ “Praise Satan!” A few of the younger witches chorused, accepting their gifts as well, and taking the food and drink to the more wary of them, chatter among the witch women almost instantly resuming as they debated whether mint or thyme were the more important ingredient in a cleansing tincture.  _

_ Zelda had never been in the presence of such a group before. Despite being practically on death’s door the witches all communed together as if nothing was wrong. They seemed to revel in their differences, poking fun but the poking never turned cruel, unlike the academy. It was a refreshing experience. She knew she needed to save these witches from Greendale at all costs. _

_ “Thank you.”  _

_ Zelda jumped a bit, turning away from her thoughts and towards Dorothea’s quiet gratitude. “It was nothing,” Zelda soothed, taking a sip of her wine with a smile, watching Dorothea’s brown eyes. They were surprisingly colorful, hints of amber and green lining her pupils.  _

_ “Not to me,” the huntress replied, resting her hand on Zelda’s in the blankets of her bed. “Thank you, Miss Spellman.” _

_ Zelda felt her heart leap in her chest and nodded, “You’re welcome and… please call me Zelda.” _

_ Dorothea nodded and smiled, “Of course, Zelda,” tasting the witch’s name on her tongue.  _

_ Zelda’s smile grew and she raised her glass, “To the safety of witches” _

_ Dorothea ear to ear grin made another appearance, melting Zelda’s soul into the soft furs beneath them, “To the safety of witches,” and with that - tapped her glass to Zelda’s taking a sip.  _

_ Zelda smiled sipping the wine, watching the way Dorothea’s upper lip glistened for just a moment with wine before she licked it clean.  _

_ “And to your continuous return, if it pleases you. Your company is welcome here,” the moral soothed, squeezing Zelda’s hand. _

_ Zelda wanted nothing more than to curl under Dorothea’s furs and blankets with her and erase the past of her day with Dorothea’s lips and hands, but simply nodded. “Thank you. There are plenty more picnics where this one came from.” _

_ Dorothea gently ran her thumb along the witch’s, “Next time you’ll have to let me cook for you.” _

_ Zelda’s face grew hot and she knew she would have to leave soon or risk her dignity in front of these new witches, “That sounds divine…. Dorothea” _

_ The two women watched each other, only partially aware of the innocent chatter of the witches around them before Dorothea broke the silence, “Zelda, may I attend you with the others... tomorrow?” _

_ Zelda’s eyes searched Dorothea’s, pleasantly shocked, “Yes. I will come when the sun goes.” _

_ Dorothea nodded, her grin returning, “I look forward to it.” _

_ Zelda smiled and slowly stood, “As do I,” and then she disappeared.  _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Domestic Violence  
> (we discover the origins of the Cain Pit)

_ Zelda rolled her eyes as Hilda knocked on the bathroom door the next morning, “Zelds? Is that you?” _

_ Zelda fastened her earring and pulled open the door, “Who else would it be, honestly?” _

_ Hilda nodded as she entered the room and shut the door behind her, moving to sit on the rim of the tub, “How’s your back? Did the balm work.” _

_ “Yes. It did and it’s fine Hilda,” she replied curtly, adding the other earring, before beginning to apply some light makeup.  _

_ Zelda thought about demanding Hilda to leave, but secretly wanted the company, despite how enraging Hilda could be. Hilda was practically the Nazarene’s virgin mother. She could do no wrong. She was the apple of their parent’s eyes and did nothing to deserve it, she simply was and it was enough. It didn’t matter how many Satanic Scriptures Zelda memorized, how many incantations she’d perfected, how many perfect class marks she acquired, none of it mattered. One misstep and she was back to their father’s office, back on the literal chopping block.  _

_ She shivered thinking of the day she discovered the Cain Pit. She had been a young girl, running around the house with Hilda, making things fall off the shelves around them as part of their game, when she accidentally impaled Hilda’s leg with a sword that had come flying off the wall too quickly for Hilda to dodge. Her father had been furious to see the cause of Hilda’s screams and grabbed the sword, impaling Zelda’s abdomen suddenly, screaming at her “How does that feel?! How dare you do this to your sister!?” and then she remembered the world going dark only to come to, covered in dirt that suffocated her, pressing against her chest and body until she dug herself free. Even remembering it made her want to bash Hilda’s head into the tub spout. It wasn’t fair. She’d never meant to hurt Hilda, they’d just been playing. She always tried harder than Hilda. It just wasn’t fair.  _

_ “Zelds? Why did you speak up at the coven meeting yesterday? Why save the mortals of Greendale? You’ve never cared for mortals?” Hilda asked, watching her big sister with admiration, wishing she could have just an ounce of the bravery and intelligence the older Spellman contained.  _

_ “Well Hilda, unlike you I have morals.” _

_ Hilda bristled and opened her mouth to speak, but Zelda continued. _

_ “And what do you think would happen to us as a coven if we wiped out an entire town. The surrounding towns would discover what we’d done once Greendale stopped all trade and then the mortals would come for us tenfold. It’s ultimately self preservation, Hilda, it’s like you’ve never read a history textbook.” _

_ Hilda looked at her surprised, “I..haven’t. How - how did you get a hold of a history textbook?” _

_ “Never you mind about that. Doesn’t mother need help in the kitchen?” Zelda dismissed, opening the door with a wave of her hand.  _

_ Hilda nodded and slipped back out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t need the answer to her question, she’d figured Zelda stole from the library at the academy and she had even seen Edward slip a book to her on occasion in the dead of night. She just wished Zelda would trust her to keep her secrets too.  _

_ *** _

_ Zelda had waited around the house until nightfall for Edward’s return with news, but he never showed.  _

_ “Father, have we heard from Edward and the church?” _

_ Zelda’s father set down his book and shook his head, “No, Darling. I imagine they’ve hit a snag with the puritan church. If we don’t have the answer now, we should by morning. Why don’t you take a walk? The fresh air might do you some good.”  _

_ She nodded and was grateful for the excuse to visit Dorothea. Despite that she knew her father’s suggestion to “get some air” was more centered around his sexism, she was grateful nonetheless for the alibi. So, she went up to her room and looked at herself in the mirror, finding herself preening in front of it before deeming herself worthy and magicking herself to Dorothea’s door, knocking on the dark door.  _

_ It opened within seconds, Dorothea Putnam’s glowing face greeting her at the door, “Zelda.” _

_ The witch couldn’t contain her smile, “Dorothea.” _

_ The mortal held out her hand to the witch, taking her fingers gently, leading her into the warm doorway, “I hope you’re hungry.” _

_ Zelda kept her hand in Dorothea’s, secretly hoping the mortal wouldn’t let go, her stomach fluttering as they stood so close together, the other witches chattering in the cabin. “I may have saved some room.” _

_ Dorothea’s grin only grew, “Good. Alright witches!” Dorothea announced, turning to the group who broke into delighted cheers, crowding the small kitchen to receive their portions.  _

_ Zelda quickly understood the other witches’ delight when she sunk her teeth into the best venison she’d ever had in her century on earth. “Dorothea! This is amazing…”  _

_The mortal beamed and just shrugged, “Thank you. I knew if I was going to hunt the creatures, I should know how to cook them.”_ _  
__Zelda smiled and nodded, eating, but the word “hunting” hit a mental trigger and after a few minutes she couldn’t help but ask, “Dorothea….How is Karinna?”_

_ Dorothea’s smile instantly vanished and she finished chewing carefully before swallowing. “I visited her early this morning. I did everything I could to not be seen, but Karinna said that a few of the Elders in the town know witches travel in groups and that if they are to find the other witches, I’m likely their next stop. Luckily, it seems they won’t kill her until they have the others, so she’s as safe as she can be for now.” _

_ Zelda nodded quietly and looked down at her plate for a moment then back up to Dorothea. “I think I know where I can find a cloaking spell that I can put over your home,”  _

_ Dorothea’s eyes widened as Zelda’s came back up from her plate. “You would do that?” _

_ Zelda’s face screwed gently surprised at Dorothea’s surprise, “Of course.” _

_ Dorothea smiled and reached over to squeeze the witch’s knee, “I feel I keep saying so, but thank you.” _

_ Zelda gently placed her and on top of Dorothea’s, keeping her hand there with a squeeze, “There’s no need. I simply want you all to be safe.” _

_ Dorothea nodded as she watched the witch, taking in her green eyes and slightly rouged lips, wondering what they might taste like, but quickly threw that thought aside and ran her thumb over Zelda’s knee. “Well…..my thanks is still extended to you. You owe us nothing and yet you continue to help us.” _

_ “Dorothea,” Zelda shifted her weight so her body completely faced the mortal. “You’ve risked your life to save 13 witches. They only owe you and yet you continue to give. You’ve given these witches your home, your protection, and due to their incessant chatter, I know you’ve given them the feeling of love and safety. That is something irreplaceable. You deserve more than a simple cloaking spell, but if that’s all I can give you for the moment, by Satan I’ll give it.” _

_ Dorothea’s breath caught and she nodded silently, she had no idea how to accept this gift, or even reply to Zelda’s beautiful words. She was simply doing what she knew was right and was ashamed of her people for not doing the same. “Zelda…” _

_ The witch turned back to her food and finished the plate before standing. “I’m going to get that book. If they’re already on your trail - time is crucial.” _

_ Dorothea stood and followed Zelda to the kitchen, as the witch set her clean plate in the kitchen sink basin. “Can I give you anything to help?” _

_ Zelda’s eyes softened and her body eased as she looked back to the mortal. Dorothea’s skin glowed beautifully in the firelight as her eager eyes searched Zelda’s, still not feeling worthy of the witch’s help. Zelda took two steps forward and glanced at the other witches, ensuring they weren’t watching before looking back to Dorothea, her face inches away from the mortal’s. Zelda’s voice was thin with a loss of breath as she whispered, “You can give me one thing… if it pleases you.” _

_ Dorothea wasted no time, taking Zelda’s waist in one hand and her elbow in the other as she gently kissed the witch. Zelda’s eyes shut, tasting the salt from their meal between their lips, her hands gently resting against the mortal’s waist before pulling away, “I’ll be right back with the book.”  _

_ Dorothea nodded, a little flushed and moved one of her hands to gently stroke the witch’s cheek. “Please stay safe.” _

_ Zelda nodded and then opened the front door, but paused and quickly shut the door, turning her gaze back to Dorothea, her eyes frightened.  _

_ They were too late.  _

_ Dorothea quickly stepped forward and grabbed Zelda’s elbow, shoving her into the meat closet and quickly ran back to the other witches, “They’re coming. Quickly, hide in the-” _

_ And the door to the cabin was flung open, 20 men rushing into the cabin, “Dorothea Putnam, We mean you no harm, but these witches must come with us.” _

_ Dorothea immediately grabbed one of the guns off the wall and pointed it at the men, “I’m sorry, but these witches are under my protection. Take a step closer and I’ll shoot.” _

_ “That gun will do nothing against justice,” said a man who made Zelda’s blood freeze. The high priest was here.  _

_ “Father, what would our Lord and Savior advise us to do?” Faustus asked.  _

_ “The man-woman is honorable, perhaps misguided. Although, if you leave me alone with her for a bit I’m sure I could steer her to the right path,” sneered a mortal.  _

_ Zelda shivered angrily as blood and salt from the meat around her began to slowly run down her face and body. She knew what the verdict of Edward’s and Faustus’ meeting with the Elder’s council had been. They were sacrificing the witches to keep themselves safe in the eyes of the town, posing as Catholics.  _

_ Zelda heard the gun cock and knew she had to work quickly and risk discovery or Dorothea would end up in the cell with the other witches or worse. “Lanuae magicae,” the witch whispered and Dorothea disappeared from the open area of the cabin and into the meat closet as Zelda clamped her hand over the mortal’s mouth.  _

_ “Where did she go?! Which one of you did this!?” A mortal man yelled. _

_ “I TOLD YOU THEY WERE WITCHES?” Another mortal cried. _

_ “Seize them, brothers,” The high priest commanded a split second before hell broke loose as mortal men and warlocks jumped to capture the witches, who cried out and tried to fight, but were no match for the seasoned warlocks, silver chains, and Damascus steel that opposed them. _

_ Dorothea kicked and struggled against Zelda. The sound of the mortal’s struggles unheard over the screams of the witches outside the door. “I’m sorry,” Zelda whispered in Dorothea’s ear as Dorothea’s elbow shot into her stomach, causing the witch to double over and quickly mutter a sleeping spell, tears threatening to fall as the mortal’s body went limp in her arms. “I’m so sorry…”  _

_ *** _

_ Dorothea felt woozy as she came to, finding herself on the blankets and furs of her small cot. The fire was still burning and she could smell tea in the air. Carefully, she sat up and looked over at the fireplace where she saw Zelda Spellman asleep in front of the fire, books scattered around her and a cold cup of tea beside her. Her hand between the pages of a book that she had apparently fallen asleep reading.  _

_ Slowly the events that had transpired not more than hours earlier came back to Dorothea and she looked down at herself shocked to see both she and Zelda were clean of the blood and salt of the meat closet, but could see no water that signaled Zelda had bathed either of them. She could also feel her rage returning, but knew better than to let it out quite yet. Zelda had appeared trustworthy up until this point and she wanted to hear the witch’s reasoning before pulling guns off the wall.  _

_ The mortal eased out of the bed and approached the sleeping witch, kneeling down beside her getting a better picture of the witch now that she was closer. Zelda was clearly exhausted, the dark bags under her eyes prominent, making Dorothea second guess waking her, but she needed answers. If only she could read the Latin on the cover of Zelda’s book.  _

_ Dorothea gently shook the witch as she took the book from Zelda’s hand, using her finger to keep the witch’s place marked. “Zelda. Zelda wake up.” _

_ After a bit, the witch roused from her stupor looking up at Dorothea. “Zelda. Why would you do that? Why would you take me away from those witches? They relied on me for their protection!” _

_ The witch quickly sat up and took Dorothea’s hand shaking her tired head, “Dora, my coven was there! The high priest. Faustus, my friend. I can only assume they weren’t the only two. They must have been posing as a neighboring Catholic Church. We didn’t stand a chance. I promise you! They were trying to decide how to protect our coven from attack and they must have decided to abandon the 13. I promise we’ll get them back.” _

_ Zelda carefully took the book back from Dorothea, the world still threatening to slip away into sleep, but she opened back to the page she was reading, “I’ve been researching offensive spells….. and cloaking spells and I think that I might... be able to…” _

_ The witch paused, trying desperately to finish her statement so Dorothea understood.  _

_ “Zelda are you alright?......Zelda, I understand….” Dorothea said softly, her eyes getting worried as she lifted her hand to Zelda’s cheek. The witch’s head immediately eased into the comfort of the mortal’s warm hand. _

_“I’m sorry… I’m not used to using so much magic so...quickly. Warlocks train….but we needed to get clean and I had to fix your food supply... and the books…” the witch replied, dozing off as she spoke._ _  
__Dorothea smiled softly, her heart aching at the care Zelda had taken in making sure she had been taken care of once she woke and she once again took the book from the witch’s hand. She set it down with it’s pages to the floor, before gently scooping up the witch to take her already limp body her bed. Dorothea was grateful the witch was light as she laid Zelda down. She would have taken off the witch’s dress and corset to make her more comfortable, but didn’t want to make Zelda feel vulnerable or taken advantage of, so she left her as she was before tucking her in and moving about the house, cleaning anything Zelda had missed, which was really just the tea the witch had made in an effort to stay awake._

_ Once everything was in order, Dorothea changed into a night dress and put her long brown hair into a braid, rather than it’s usual bun before sliding into her bed beside the witch. Quietly, she watched the red head sleep, gently playing with a stray curl. Dorothea was grateful her instinct towards the witch was correct and she admired the witch’s tenacity towards their predicament. How had she gotten so lucky to meet this effervescent creature in the woods? How had she gotten so lucky that the witch kept coming back? That the witch was still here, literally right next to her? She silently prayed to God, or rather begged, that despite their different faiths, that he would let her keep this witch close. She would give anything to keep Zelda close.  _


	5. Chapter 5

“And that was the first night I spent in your Aunt’s bed,” Zelda concluded with a shit-eating grin. 

Theo looked up at the woman with eyes that were in awe, ecstatic, but mostly horrified as Zelda chuckled and gestured in the vague direction of where it had been established to her that Dorothea was, “Isn’t that right, Darling!” She completed, sucking on her cigarette before blowing the smoke out for emphasis.

Dorothea chuckled and crossed her arms, her eyes sparkling as she watched the witch torment the boy. 

Theo looked towards Dorothea, his eyes pleading, not trusting Zelda to keep her story PG, “Aunt Dorothea, tell her she can’t tell me the  _ whole  _ story!”

The ghost simply shrugged, her grin growing. “She can’t hear me regardless, boy. I have no control over what she tells you. I’d advise you to pray. The woman has never known decency,” Dorothea smirked, uncrossing her arms, absently twisting a ring on her finger as she leaned against the wall, relishing Theo’s betrayed facial expression, but relishing Zelda’s tickling cackle more as Zelda deduced what Theo had been told.

Theo was shocked by Sabrina’s aunt’s laugh. Never in Theo’s life did he expect to hear such a genuine laugh from Zelda Spellman! Then, even more shockingly Theo froze as each of Zelda’s hands found his upper arms, gently squeezing them in a little hug as she kissed the top of his head before releasing him, still chuckling.

Theo’s worried looks immediately melted away into a giggle, secretly wishing Zelda hadn’t let go. Theo’s mother had died in childbirth and even though he was begging his mind not to, he couldn’t help wondering if this was a small snippet of what having a mother would be like. Zelda smiled down at him and once again brushed back his hair, “I make no promises pertaining to the content of my storytelling. I will tell what I see fit,” the witch stated. 

_ Zelda woke to the sun shining and the birds chirping and for a moment, couldn’t quite put a finger on where she was. _

_ “Good morning,” said Dorothea as she bookmarked the notebook she had been writing in as she sat beside Zelda on her bed. “How are you feeling?” She asked, resting her hand against Zelda’s forehead. _

_ Zelda rolled her eyes and smiled, “I’m fine. I was simply a little tired, thank you.” _

_ Dorothea smiled down at her, “Good. What would you like me to prepare for breakfast?” _

_ Zelda scoffed, “ You don’t need to-” _

_ Dorothea cut her off, placing her pinky finger over the witch’s lips, “We’ll attempt this again. Zelda Spellman, Is there anything that I can prepare for you for breakfast?” _

_ Zelda blushed and rolled her eyes, instinctively licking her lips when Dorothea removed her pinky, her eyes blazing with the real answer, Dorothea, but instead she coyly replied, “No.” _

_ The mortal smirked and leaned down, her lips hovering over the witch’s, “I’ll boil some eggs then.” _

_ Zelda’s breath caught and her smile grew, “Sounds delightful.” Then the witch reached up and captured the back of Dorothea’s head, bringing her down to kiss her.  _

_ Dorothea smiled against the witch’s soft lips, deepening the kiss as she moved a hand to rest it against Zelda’s corseted stomach, her arm over Zelda’s head. She shivered as the witch ran her fingers down her face to her neck, resting them in the hollow of Dorothea’s collarbone as her other hand snaked around, gently touching Dorothea’s rib-cage.  _

_ Dorothea’s lips slowly left Zelda’s to kiss the corner of her mouth before kissing a trail down to that soft spot where her neck met her chin, causing Zelda to moan softly, her fingers tightening around Dorothea’s rib cage and neck, “Careful, Mortal,” Zelda warned.  _

_ Dorothea smirked against Zelda’s skin and ran her tongue over the witch’s soft, perfect flesh. She never thought she would meet a woman with her same perversions, let alone a witch, but here she was and she was going to savor it. “Or what, Zelda Spellman?” Dorothea taunted as she kissed down Zelda’s neck to where the tops of her breasts sat, tantalizing, peeking out of the top of her dress, inciting another moan as Zelda grabbed the base of Dorothea’s dress, pulling it over the mortal’s head before flipping the mortal over.  _

_ “I warned you.” _

Theo cleared his throat and giggled, covering his ears with the furs. “Aunt Zelda!”

Zelda chuckled and removed the furs from his ears, draping them over his torso like little blankets, “Alright! I’ll spare you the rest of my juicy details. You and Sabrina certainly have a low tolerance for discussions of sex.”

Theo smiled under the furs, “I don’t want to listen to my m-…. Friend’s Aunt tell me about her sex life! That’s gross!” 

Zelda smirked and rolled her eyes, not stating so but, Theo’s unspoken word not lost on her. Was Theo going to say “mother”? Zelda’s heart pinched at the thought and she pushed away the flashes of what she’d hoped her life had been with Dorothea; children in arm, storytelling by the fire, planting flowers outside the cottage steps. She should have fought harder for it. 

_ Dorothea looked over her shoulder as she boiled their breakfast, biting her lower lip as she watched Zelda sit back down on the bed after putting on one of her shirts, the sleeves only just longer than her arms, but long enough she had to roll them up, while the edge of the shirt hit her mid thighs, not leaving much to the imagination as she dove back into the books. It took everything in the mortal to tear her eyes from the witch, reminding herself that Zelda’s red curls would still be there when she finished making them eggs.  _

_ “Dora? Do you have any scrap paper I could use?” _

_ Dorothea’s heart clenched in all the right ways and she turned, nodding, going over to her journal tearing out a few pages. “Certainly,” she purred, handing the witch the paper, quill, and ink pot.  _

_ “Thank you.” Zelda smiled and took the items, warmed by the glow in the mortal’s eyes, wondering what it could be about this particular mortal that she trusted so much. It was impossible to explain why this woman relaxed her so. Surely something so warm and freeing as the tickle in her stomach couldn’t exist (at least without a price), but Zelda pushed her logic aside. Perhaps, this was simply a good thing she thought. She then returned to the books, writing down the incantations she needed to work with as Dorothea finished breakfast, putting their hot eggs in a bowl that she brought over. _

_ “They need to cool, but otherwise the eggs are ready,” the mortal stated as she sat back down beside the witch, setting the bowl in front of them, while reaching around to pull the witch close, resting her chin on her slender shoulder to see the Latin Zelda was writing. “What have you discovered might aid us in saving the 13?” _

_ Zelda finished writing the incantation she was working on and held it up slightly, “Some of these are spells to attack. Witches are forbidden to use them, but….” _

_ “They would be quite useful for our purposes,” Dorothea gently urged, knowing Zelda was very capable due to all of the spellwork she’s seen of the witch thus far. It was a shame she could feel the fear radiating off of the witch as she even thought of using them. She knew that rebellious fear well.  _

_ “Yes. This is a cloaking spell and this one a spell of transfiguration. I was thinking...there are still issues with my plans, but I was mulling over transfiguring the witches into vermin or bugs, so they could escape the prison, we would just have to sneak me into the prison, which seems sensible, but I fear would simply just cause a second hunt… or I could teleport the witches in clouds of smoke right as they were hung, but once again...another hunt….” _

_ “Is it possible to transfigure something else to look like the witches, so perchance 13 crickets get hung, rather than the 13 witches? This would both save the witches and prevent another hunt.” _

_ Zelda paused and nodded, “Yes…. That could work”, a smile gracing her lips.  _

_ “Do you think we could enlist the help of your coven -” Dorothea began to ask and Zelda pulled away immediately, facing the mortal. _

_ “No, we could not. Not for those witches and they certainly wouldn’t stand behind a witch’s plan to save other witches.” _

_ Dorothea frowned, “Are they really so cruel they would let these witches die even if there was another way?” _

_ Zelda’s eyes darkened, “Warlocks kill witches for sport, Dorothea. This is simply to keep the mortals off of the coven’s trail because a threat to the coven was a possibility. If circumstances had been different my coven would have simply killed them themselves.” _

_ Dorothea’s frown deepened, looking down at the list of incantations, letting the silence settle for a moment before asking, “And if they discover you helped me in freeing these witches?” _

_ Zelda’s lips pursed and she forced a small smile, “Nothing. My father teaches at the academy. They wouldn’t hurt me.” _

_ Dorothea sat silently, able to see the lie playing over Zelda’s face with ease. She'd seen the ragged pink scars on the witch's back, but was uncertain how to expose her lie verbally. _

_ Zelda stared back, terrified, but defiant.  _

_ Finally, Dorothea nodded, “Then we need to find you a belt so you can wear my pants. I’m teaching you to shoot a gun. Not even a warlock can beat a silver bullet if he doesn’t expect it to come.”  _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Domestic Violence and Depictions of Hanging.

_ “Close your left eye and use your right to focus your vision over the barrel. Don’t pull the trigger yet,” Dorothea instructed. Her hands were on Zelda’s hips, keeping her face so close to Zelda’s that her breath tickled the witch’s red curls, brushing them over the witch’s cheeks like the wind.  _

_ “Do you have it focused?” The mortal asked. _

_ The witch nodded ever so slightly. _

_ “The rifle will kick back into your shoulder when you fire. Don’t resist it when it does, but _

_ stay firm. It’s like dancing. You’re not losing control, you’re just letting the gun lead for a split second. Just ensure you keep yourself planted so your bullet doesn’t veer off. Shoot whenever you’re ready...” _

_ The red head nodded again and refocused. Her limbs tingling - feeling the power of the _

_ gun in her hands. She kept her eyes narrowed on her target, a rabbit fur. They had debated using a small metal cup, but Dorothea had determined that the potential bullet ricochet wasn’t worth the risk of a more precise target.  _

_ Zelda took in a breath and held it, her finger posed over the trigger. She could feel Dorothea’s strong hands keeping her hips grounded to the earth, her soft breath over her ear. She could feel herself hesitating. “It will kick back?” _

_ The mortal nodded. “Yes, Right here,” Dorothea said, moving one of her hands to _

_ Zelda’s shoulder. “All it will do is...” she began before gently but sharply pushing against Zelda’s shoulder, moving them to simulate the action.  _

_ “It’ll be a bit harder than that because the rifle is made of wood and metal, but that’s all _

_ and I’m right behind you holding you steady,” the mortal woman finished, squeezing the witch’s hips, placing a soft kiss on the shell of her ear.  _

_ The witch nodded, taking another deep breath and then shot.  _

_ “Good,” Dorothea breathed as the bullet hit the branches off to the side of the rabbit fur. _

_ Zelda smiled, her eyes elated as she turned to Dorothea. “Really?” In over two centuries _

_ she couldn’t recall a time she received praise for such mediocre work and one look into Dorothea’s eyes told the witch the mortal meant it.  _

_ Dorothea smiled, but stayed serious. “Yes! That was much better than I expected out of your first shot. Try again. Show me how to reload it.” _

_ Zelda reloaded the gun with ease and then brought the barrel back up, lining it up, determined. She shot.  _

_ The bullet once again hit the trees. _

_ “Again.” _

_ Zelda shot the bark beside the skin. _

_ “Again.” _

_ Zelda shot the skin in the foot. _

_ “Again.” _

_ Zelda shot the skin directly in the head. _

_ “Good! Again.” _

_ The witch accomplished another clean shot, then another, then another, and finally lined up the gun and just as she was about to shoot, Dorothea jumped at her.  _

_ Despite the distraction, the witch shot almost another clean shot, the bullet hitting just 2 inches to the left of the skin’s head.  _

_ “Good, Girl,” Dorothea praised, rubbing Zelda’s back. “On a human...or warlock, that still would have been clean. Good.” The mortal let out a long held breath and smiled at the witch. _

_ Zelda’s smile grew and she looked back at the rabbit fur, pride filling her chest. She knew Edward would be proud. Edward…. _

_ “Shit! I never returned home last night… I- I have to go home,” She exclaimed worriedly, handing the gun back to Dorothea. “I’ll return with a picnic basket and some spiders. We’ll get them out tonight,” the witch promised as she took Dorothea’s face in her hands, the joy in the witch’s eyes - striking. “We’ll save them.”  _

_ Dorothea’s smile widened. “We will. Please be careful, Zelda. I’ll await your return anxiously.” _

_ Zelda nodded and pressed a soft kiss to the woman’s lips before disappearing.  _

  
  


“So, you know how to shoot a gun?!” Theo asked, his eyes lighting up.

Zelda was taken aback by his surprise. “Yes.”

“She is quite the shot, boy. Perhaps she’ll aid you in your aim,” Dorothea nudged, coyly.

Theo looked at Dorothea, taken aback, then turned to Zelda, “Would you?”

“Would I what, dear? This is an unfairly one sided conversation,” Zelda snapped gently, gesturing to the empty space in front of her and Theo. 

“.....would you be willing to help me with my aim? Aunt Dorothea said that you were a good shot,” the boy asked again. 

A smirk played on the witch’s lips and she nodded, “Of course, Theo. And yes, I am a very good shot. I work well under pressure.”

Theo smiled and hugged the furs, “Great!......Just...don’t tell my dad. Toxic masculinity and all that.”

Zelda’s eyes got a dangerous glint as her tongue ran over her lower lip, trying to hide her cruel smile, “I make no promises.”

_ Zelda appeared in her and Hilda’s room and was immediately grabbed by Edward, who sat in wait on Zelda’s bed, “Where the hell have you been, Sister!? Father is furious!” he asked in a hushed whisper.  _

_ “None of your business!” Zelda hissed, pushing him away before moving to get a dress to change into.  _

_ “I’m serious. Where have you been?” _

_ “And I’m serious. It is none of your business where I spend my time.” _

_ Edward scowled. “You’ve been gone all night, Zelda. Hilda and I have been worried sick.” _

_ “I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine,” Zelda said as she moved to change behind the room divider that separated her and Hilda’s side of the room.  _

_ Edward huffed and stood. “Zelda.” _

_ He was hit in the face with Dorothea’s shirt.  _

_ “Fine. Fine. Listen to me. Even if Father doesn’t kill you tonight, the Anti-Pope might.” _

_Zelda froze and slowly peered over a panel at Edward, hands keeping her corset strings tight._

_ He raised an eyebrow pointedly and moved to stand directly next to the divider, whispering, “I don’t know why you’re trying so hard to save these witches, but Faustus tipped off the high priest that he might have heard a stray witch muttering spells in the closet, aiding the 13. You’re lucky I’m quite good at cloaking spells. Zelda. I know that was you, but I want to hear you say it. Are you that witch?”  _

_ Zelda watched her brother silently, her eyes giving away nothing and despite the vulnerable fear in his voice growing he continued, “Are you?! Because if you are the Anti-Pope is coming to make sure no witch interferes with the hanging of the 13 or she will be hanged as well. Zelda, is he looking for you?!” _

_ Zelda stayed silent as she searched her brother’s eyes. She understood his fear. She was as good as dead if she left the house tonight with Dorothea. She would have to put a glamour on the mortal. Logically, she should just let the 13 go. She should see this as her way out, but she knew what it was like to be hunted. Her neck may not be on the line right now, but the sexism of the church constantly reminded her that if she made one wrong move to the wrong warlock, she could be next. The church kept defensive and offensive spells out of witches hands. They’re education was limited if it existed at all. They weren’t allowed positions of power in the church, or to be present in the room (unless they were serving the warlocks). Zelda’s neck may not have a rope around it now, but those 13 witches did and they didn’t deserve it. They deserved to be in Dorothea’s cabin, chatting away about spells and insignificant nonsense. Zelda may not be able to rise up to become High Priestess to alter these prejudices, but she might be able to alter the fates of these 13 witches.  _

_ “No. I’m not that witch,” She lied. _

_ Tears immediately threatened his eyes and he turned away. “At least tell me what you’re planning...” _

_ Zelda settled back to the ground from her tiptoe position and finished fastening the corset and took a breath, “I’m not planning anything, Edward.” _

_ She didn’t have to look at him to be able to see his jaw setting. “The 13 are being hung in a few hours,” he stated. _

_ Zelda suppressed a shiver. “Ok.”  _

_ Edward nodded, fighting tears, unsure if this was going to be the last time he really spoke with his sister, but knew he couldn’t stop her once her mind was made up. He usually admired this characteristic, but today it only left a sour taste in the back of his throat as he moved to the door, “I hope it was worth it, Zelda.” _

_ “...........13 lives are greater than one, are they not?” _

_ Edward said nothing and left the room.  _

_ *** _

_ Hilda was clearly anxious when Zelda arrived downstairs and swallowed almost comically before Zelda heard the booming voice of their father.  _

_ “My prodigal daughter returns.”  _

_ Zelda turned toward the voice as he appeared, towering over her, roughly taking her jaw in his hand. “WHERE have you been?” _

_ “The Academy.” _

_ The response was met with a slap. Of course he wouldn’t believe her. “If you’re impregnated with the seed of a MORTAL Zelda Spellman I will have no choice but to have you excommunicated or worse!” _

_ The fire in Zelda’s eyes and body grew as she raised her chin, “Good thing I was at The Academy sleeping with warlocks.” _

_ “ZELDA!” Her mother scolded anxiously, but didn’t take a step forward as Reginald Spellman took his daughter’s neck in his hand, turning her so her back was against the doorway.  _

_ “Father, please…” Edward pleaded, placing a hand on their father’s shoulder. “She isn’t being serious, you know this… She was tutoring the children and fell asleep reading to them…” _

_ Reginald Spellman gently squeezed Zelda’s neck for a second, not enough to cut off her airways, but a clear warning. “You drive my patience. Lucky for you we have to be in the town square shortly. I’ll let the 13 witches we witness be an example to you of what happens to insolent witches.” _

_ Zelda said nothing as he let her go, walking back to his study and slamming the door.  _

_ “Zelda…. You know better than to antagonize your father,” her mother finished. _

_ Zelda said nothing to her and looked to Edward and then Hilda.  _

_ Edward’s jaw was set as he crossed his arms. Hilda wrung her hands before stepping forward. “Zelds....” _

_ Zelda put her hand over her sister’s, “I’m alright, Hilda. I’m going to change my shoes. If we’re attending an impromptu witch hanging, I’ll need better boots.”  _

_ Hilda’s lips peeked up a smidgen as she squeezed Zelda’s hand, her eyes watering a bit, looking up at her older sister with a look so full of worry that Zelda wondered if Hilda, like Edward, knew what she’d been up and had to do now to save the 13 witches of Greendale. But, she was too afraid of the risk in asking and turned to leave the room.  _

_ She and Dorothea would have to rearrange their plan. They didn’t have time to execute their original deception. No, Zelda would have to take matters into her own hands and pay whatever price she was given.  _

_ *** _

_ Zelda scanned the crowd, analyzing the mortals and witchkind who all gathered in the Greendale Square, praying Dorothea had heeded her raven sent warning and had not come. Deep down she knew she would see Dorothea, but she could hope.  _

_ Sure enough, it was only a matter of minutes before her eyes found the ravishing brunette. Dorothea’s hair up in her traditional bun, gun in tow, boots marching to stand in front of the tree where the witches stood, ropes around their necks.  _

_ “STOP THIS! These witches mean NO HARM! Putting them to death is against God and all that is right and just in this world!” _

_ The townsfolk boo’d and threw fruit and small stones, refusing to listen to even a word that fell from the righteous woman’s mouth as she pleaded with their long evaporated compassion.  _

_ “PLEASE! If you hang them - HANG ME TOO!” Dorothea cried, raising her rifle in the air. _

_ Zelda’s eyes widened, a spell immediately on her tongue, kneeling down to “tie her boot” to mutter a spell of protection. Thankfully, two large men quickly jumped Dorothea, wrestling her arms down as they removed her from the space in front of the tree, rather than setting up another noose.  _

_ “Tempting, but even a man-woman doesn’t deserve a death reserved for filth!” the priest nearby spat as the witch’s nooses were tightened.  _

_ “NOOO!” Dorothea screamed as she fought.  _

_ Zelda’s breath caught in her throat. It was up to her. Silently, she recited a few Hail Lilith’s and braced herself, taking a last look at Dorothea, who met her gaze. The mortal’s eyes were full of tears as she fought. Zelda’s lips trembled, but she offered a gentle smile to the mortal before mouthing, “I love you” and turning her gaze back to the tree. She could hear Dorothea cry out, her plea to the priest to “please stop this!” reaching a level of desperation that squeezed Zelda’s heart.  _

_The executioner tightened the ropes and moved to kick over the first stool. The priest stepped forward,“On this day, we’re granted praise from our Lord and Saviour. May he condemn the wicked souls of these witches and spare of us of the sin they’ve imparted on our town. Amen.”_ _  
__“AMEN!” the town cried and Zelda opened her mouth, her lips and tongue caressing the Latin required to set the witches free, when her throat closed._

_ She gagged and brought her hand up to her throat, unable to breathe. Her eyes darted to Dorothea’s terrified and pained brown eyes. “NO!” the mortal screamed trying to get to Zelda, but the men wouldn’t budge, all eyes focused on the tree as the executioner kicked over the first stool and the steady sound of necks cracking in the air was set off like a chiming clock. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_ Crack. _

_  
__Crack._

_ The hold on Zelda’s throat was lifted and the witch gasped for air in what could be confused for a sob.  _

_ Her father scowled down at her, “Zelda!” _

_ “Brother Spellman, don’t you fret. These things tend to be….shocking to young witches. She’ll be hardened in time,” said an old man who emerged from behind….the Anti-Pope. She knew she’d been discovered by the gleam in his eyes. “Isn’t that right, Young Zelda?” Her eyes widened, fearful before turning her head, her hand moving up to cover her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. She would die tonight and for what? The 13 were gone. Their toes twitching in the dusk breeze as only one mortal cried. She’d failed and now she would pay the price.  _


	7. Chapter 7

_ “Zelds….Can I make you a spot of tea?” Hilda asked as she watched Zelda pace back and forth and back and forth and back and forth over their bedroom floor.  _

_ Zelda shook her head, “No, Hilda I’m fine.” _

_ Her sister pursed her pink button lips and frowned, not sure how to help when her sister wouldn’t even tell her what she was fretting about.  _

_ “Is there anything I can do?”  _

_ Zelda looks back to her sister and her eyes softened. “No, Hilda. I…. I think I just need to go for a walk.”  _

_ Hilda nodded a bit as Zelda finally stopped pacing, moving over to the younger witch, stroking her younger sister’s fine blond hair. “If I don’t come back, tell Edward the rest of his books are under the floorboards in my closet and….. Don’t let the warlocks tell you that you are anything less than them, Hilda.” _

_ “Zelda, you’re scaring me.” Hilda pleaded, grabbing her sister’s arm to tether her to the spot. _

_ Zelda smiled softly, “I’ll be back by the time the sun rises.” _

_ And with that Hilda watched her sister disappear beneath her fingertips.  _

_ *** _

_ Zelda paused at Dorothea’s door, her hand poised - hesitating to knock. What if Dorothea was angry with her for failing to save the witches. She was certainly angry with herself. She wasn’t sure if she could stand her last memory of Dorothea being negative.  _

_ Suddenly the door opened and her body tensed as she was thrown into a hug, “Zelda!” The witch’s eyes widened as she wrapped her arms around the mortal, feeling the mortal’s warm ribs trembling with sobs that she held back. “You’re ok! You’re safe….Praise the Lord on High…” _

_ Zelda easily shoved aside her disgust for the false-god as Dorothea moved back ever so slightly, taking the witch’s face in her hands, tears running down the mortal’s face as she looked into the witch’s eyes.  _

_ “You’re…….You’re not angry with me?” Zelda asked, allowing herself to feel small and vulnerable in the hands of the brunette, knowing the answer despite feeling surprised by it. _

_ Dorothea looked at her aghast, “Zelda. Why would I be angry with you? I thought you were going to die protecting the others…… I thought that was the last time I’d see you.” _

_ A small sheepish smile played over Zelda’s lips as Dorothea’s thumbs trailed over her cheeks, wiping away the tears she didn’t even know were falling. “...I still might.” _

_ Dorothea froze, seeing the truth in Zelda’s eyes. “...but the coven still got what they wanted. Your coven is safe because they forced those thirteen women to pay rather than protecting them like they should have! There’s no reason to kill you, Zelda. Why would they kill you!?” Zelda could see the fury growing in Dorothea’s face and body as she instinctively took Zelda inside, her eyes scanning the forest for any signs of danger before closing the door and locking it.  _

_ The witch subconsciously reached out and took the mortal’s hand once the door was locked, unwilling to not be connected. “I threatened the safety of the coven. The Anti-Pope was told that a witch might expose us and I… he knows it was me. I waited at home for a while, but he hasn’t shown. He may not but….” Zelda’s eyes told Dorothea what her voice struggled to. Zelda still didn’t feel safe.  _

_ The mortal immediately took the witch back into a hug, her fingers tangling into the witch’s curls, as her other arm wrapped around the witch’s waist. “You’re safe here. You put a spell on the cabin this morning. They won’t find you. I’ll make sure of that.” _

_ Zelda’s fingers caressed and held the soft white cotton of the mortal’s button down shirt and buried her face in the crook of the mortal’s neck. “I can’t leave my sister…..” _

_ Dorothea’s grip tightened slightly, “Bring your sister.” _

_ Zelda nodded softly, but her lower lip began to tremble. She couldn’t hide forever and she knew it. She knew they both knew it. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling faster, or the sobs from sneaking through her lips, no matter how fast her fingers tried to catch the tears. It felt rich to cry for her life as the 13 remained hung from a tree, but nonetheless Dorothea held her securely and lowered them to the ground. The mortal used her legs to make a protective barrier around the witch, her own chest shaking as she held them together.  _

_ Zelda was right. The mortal knew she wouldn’t be able to hide her witch from other witches for long. Dorothea shivered thinking about how quickly the warlocks invaded her own home through the church only days ago. She knew it was only a matter of time and likely less time than she even knew considering Zelda’s fear.  _

_ “......Zelda?....” the mortal asked as their tears subsided a bit.  _

_ The witch shook her head and sat up, leaning away from the mortal slightly, composing herself and wiping away tears, “I’m sorry..” _

_ The mortal frowned and moved a few stray pieces of hair from Zelda’s face. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be sorry. If I hadn’t brought the witches here this never would-” _

_ She was cut off by a small kiss from Zelda, before the witch whispered over the mortal’s lips, “If I’m not allowed to be sorry...neither are you. You saved those witches time and time again. In a different time…. We might have succeeded.” _

_ Dorothea nodded and rested her forehead against Zelda’s.  _

_ The two women stayed silent for a long time, not speaking, but instead stroking, caressing, and holding each other’s hands. Neither woman was willing to part from the other. They might never see each other again if they did. _

_ “I never thought I would find someone like me…” Dorothea finally spoke, watching their hands as she traced the veins in Zelda’s wrist.  _

_ Zelda shut her eyes. _

_ “I love you, Dorothea.” _

_ “....I love you, Zelda.” _

_ “............We need to cut down the 13. No one else will. I can’t stand the thought of witches hanging there forever.” _

_ Dorothea nodded, moving her head to kiss the tip of Zelda’s nose. “Can you dig in that dress, Darling?” _

_ Zelda smiled softly, “I can dig in anything, Love.” _

_ *** _

_ The two didn’t separate as they walked back to the large tree in the outskirts of town. They walked arm in arm in the cover of the dark, Dorothea armed with her rifle and Zelda as she was.  _

_ Zelda’s breath caught as she looked up at the swaying feet and Dorothea gently squeezed her arm. This was the fate of these witches, but this had been and will be the fate of all witches one way or another. Zelda thought about Hilda. What would her sister do when she was gone? Would her father spare her? Would he turn his need to express his power over them to her, or would he choose their mother as he had, according to Edward, prior to Zelda’s birth. Was this really the fate of witches forever?  _

_ “Are you ready, Darling?” Dorothea pried. _

_ Zelda nodded and separated from the mortal to hold up her hands, focusing her energy into her palms before cutting them across her body to break the ropes and then steadying the bodies to lower them slowly to the ground, not a single witch hitting the ground harshly as someone began clapping behind her in the dark.  _

_ The women frowned and turned to face the darkness behind them as an old man stepped out into the moonlight, the connections of his hands ringing through the clearing.  _

_ “Bravo, Miss Spellman. That was quite impressive for a witch who shouldn’t have an education to perform such spells. Who indulges you? Certainly not your father…...your soft brother perhaps?” _

_ The Anti-Pope. Zelda quickly took a step forward and held and arm out in front of Dorothea. “What do you want?” _

_ The Anti-Pope smirked and began to circle around them towards the tree. “Order restored. Did you think the coven would give you the freedom to….engage with this mortal considering she’s encouraged you to break through the rightful molds we’ve set for witches? Your kind can’t handle the power that comes with further abilities. You know better.” _

_ Zelda tensed and kept her body facing the Anti-Pope, bracing herself as Dorothea slowly pulled her rifle over her shoulder and aimed it. “I know that’s what I’ve been told.” _

_ He stopped beside one of the dead witches and kicked her hand, “How would you like to die, Zelda Spellman? I’m sure you’ve given it thought. I might even take it into consideration - I’m quite fond of your father. He was one of my highest pupils, you know?” _

_ Dorothea cocked the gun and moved to stand in front of Zelda, who quickly placed a hand on the mortal’s shoulder, signaling to her to wait. _

_ The Anti-Pope chuckled. “What a good little bitch,” he clucked as if to a dog. “Too bad your efforts are quite useless.” The Anti-Pope finished before knocking the gun out of Dorothea’s hands and using magic to shoot her into his arms, his hands around her neck.  _

_ “Stop!” Zelda cried, picking up her black skirts as if to run, but was frozen.  _

_ “Stop?! But your little pet will make such a fine supper for the coven tonight!” He mocked, cackling as his hands tightened, enjoying the sensation of the squirming human - fighting for her life. _

_ Zelda clutched her skirts as she watched, trying desperately to think, and then she saw Dorothea was trying to say something, mouthing one word - Shoot. _

_ Zelda’s hands released the black fabric that cascaded back to rest as she reached out for the gun. The metal connected with her palm and she raised the gun to her shoulder, positioning the metal within milliseconds, aiming. She prayed to Satan she wouldn’t miss. Dorothea’s head was just centimetres away from the Anti-Pope’s.  _

_ She shot and the Anti-Pope fell with an unceremonious thump.  _

_ Dorothea brought her hands up to her throat and gasped for breath, falling to her knees. “....Good.” _

_ Zelda immediately gathered her skirts and across the field to her, kneeling in front of the mortal. “Are you alright!?” _

_ Dorothea nodded, taking Zelda’s hands, standing up with the witch. “Yes. Yes. Just shaken…. Who is this man?” _

_ Zelda grimaced, “...That’s the Anti-Pope.” _

_ Dorothea’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, “...Zelda!” _

_ The witch held up a hand, “I’ll incinerate him once we return to your cabin. We need to get these witches back there too…..they shouldn’t be buried in such a vile place.” _

_ “Are you strong enough?” _

_ Zelda nodded. “My magic has been getting stronger now that I’m using it. I can do it.” _

_ Dorothea nodded in approval and the mortal took the witch into her arms, her heart rate finally starting to dip back to normal. If Zelda had just killed the Anti-Pope, how long would it be before the rest of her coven found out? She pushed these thoughts away and kissed the witch’s temple before stepping back so Zelda could take them all back to her cabin. She would worry about the details later, for now they needed to dig - and quickly.  _


	8. Chapter 8

“Killing the Anti-Po-” Theo had started excitedly, but was quickly silenced by Zelda’s hand covering his mouth. The witch’s eyes were hard and Theo could see the fear in her eyes despite the soundproof room.

“Careful, Boy,” Dorothea warned. “Some phrases shouldn’t roll off the tongue.”

“It was still badass,” Theo defended in a muffle behind the witch’s hand. “I swear I won’t tell Ms. Spellman.”

Zelda nodded and removed her hand, swiping a curl back behind her ear. Her formerly relaxed state had vanished like thin air and Theo was quickly brought back to the reality of Zelda Spellman. He was reminded that Zelda Spellman didn’t laugh. He was reminded that Zelda Spellman had secrets -deadly secrets- some of which he now knew, secrets he couldn’t tell anyone or she could literally die. He watched her, remaining serious, trying not to miss the jovial expression she had only five minutes before. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Spellman.”

Zelda shook her head, “There’s nothing to apologize for. There is no real danger in this room and yes, it was badass.”

Theo wondered how much of that sentiment was to assure him, or to assure her. He watched as Dorothea moved from where she stood by the vanity to Zelda’s side table, only a foot away from the witch, moving only slightly to the side as Zelda stood up and poured herself a whiskey from the bottle that sat on this side table before sitting back down. 

“Ms. Spellman….. They didn’t find out right?”

The witch sipped the whiskey and shook her head. “No, that secret has remained between Dora and I… and now you. I believe my brother may have suspected that I was involved in the Anti-Pope’s disappearance, but there was no body, no alibi, no witnesses, so the church had no way of knowing. But, if they do find out….” Zelda took a large swig of the whiskey and gave Theo a pointed look.

The boy held up his hand after crossing over his heart, “I swear!”

“Good, boy.”

Theo smiled a bit and his heart grew when the witch’s eyes softened, a whisper of a smile playing at her lips. 

_ Zelda wiped the sweat from her brow as she stuck one of their shovels in the ground. “Well. That’s that.” _

_ Dorothea shook her head, her muscles exhausted from their physical labor, but went over to the small white and pink flowers that grew around her cabin and knelt down to gather thirteen small bundles, placing one on each grave.  _

_ Zelda watched quietly, holding onto the shovel to ensure that she didn’t collapse as Dorothea honored the witches. Nodding in approval to the mortal when she looked back to the witch once all thirteen bouquets were in place.  _

_ The mortal walked back over to the witch and reached around the witch’s waist to hold her against her body, slipping her other hand in her pants pocket. “At least they will rest in a place where they were cared for.” _

_ The witch nodded and rested her head against Dorothea’s shoulder, “They would be grateful.”  _

_ “What did you do with...him?” _

_ Zelda gestured to a few locations on the outskirts of the cabin yard, “I buried the ashes in a few different spots. No one should be able to tell anything is even buried there. I used ground that was already grassless.” _

_ Dorothea nodded and gently rubbed the witch’s rib-cage with her thumb, “Intelligent.” _

_ “I do read.” _

_ Dorothea smirked, “I don’t know if that’s true. Every time I’ve seen you with a book in your hand you’ve been asleep.” _

_ Zelda smirked and gently backhanded the mortal’s arm causing the woman to chuckle and squeeze her tighter.  _

_ “Come. Let’s get cleaned,” The mortal determined, leading them back into the cabin, tucking the shovels into a closet before beginning to heat bucket after bucket of water for a bath. Zelda stood, looking around for another bucket, or something that may help, but Dorothea gestured to a small wooden bench by the fireplace, “I’ll take care of this, rest, please.” Zelda frowned slightly, but could see from the genuine look in Dorothea’s eyes that the woman was content, so she nodded and moved to sit on the bench, resting her back against the wall, feeling she should read something or be productive in some way, but instead ended up letting her eyes shut as she listened to Dorothea’s movements around the cabin. The simple sound of hearing her close relaxing her mind away from her worries. _

_ Zelda was sure that the process of drawing the bath had taken a long time, but for her the time passed in an instant as she must have dozed off, waking to Dorothea gently stroking her hair and cheek, “Zelda, the bath is ready.” _

_The witch smiled and carefully stood, “Thank you.”_ _  
__The mortal grinned back, placing a gentle kiss on the witch’s nose, “You’re welcome, Darling.”_

_ Zelda continued to smile as she moved toward the basin, starting to strip the dirty frock from her body, when she noticed Dorothea beginning to leave, “Where are you going?” _

_ The mortal paused at the door to the open concept cabin, “.....I was going to give you privacy. In case you wanted it.” _

_ The witch smirked, her eyes gentle and playful, “Dor…. I refuse to bathe in this warm water if you are not with me and if it’s you who would like privacy then I will be doing the waiting.” _

_ Dorothea looked pleasantly surprised, “....I….don’t want privacy...no.” _

_ “Then come here.” _

_ The mortal stayed frozen for a moment, almost shy, before walking over, standing in front of the witch, who let her dress fall to the floor before removing her underdress and taking down her hair. Dorothea’s breath was non-existent. How exquisite the witch was. She was literally breathtaking. Then the witch’s fingers were at the strings of Dorothea’s shirt, untying them before gently removing the shirt, watching for any signs of discomfort, but there were none. The mortal stood in awe as the witch continued to delicately remove the mortal’s clothes, gingerly placing each item on the floor as if it were a sacred object, until the mortal stood before her, bare.  _

_ The witch gently touched the mortal’s cheek, before pressing her soft lips against the mortal’s. “Get in the basin.” It wasn’t a demand. It was a quiet declaration and Dorothea obliged, moving past the witch to sink into the basin, letting her back rest against the warm metal, the hot water soothing her aching muscles instantly.  _

_ The witch followed suit, sitting over the mortal’s lap, facing her, kissing her again, deepening the kiss to taste her tongue as her hand undid the mortal’s bun, her fingers tangling into the soft brown hair to bring the mortal closer. The mortal moaned as Zelda’s body pressed into her and she held the witch’s waist in her hands, before moving them slowly down her hip, over the curve of her ass and then down the underside of the witch’s thighs. The witch shivered and parted from their kiss only slightly, gasping Dorothea’s name, “Dor-” _

_ The mortal smirked and pulled the witch as close as they could be with her thighs, sealing her name between them, before sitting up, leaning the witch back so she could have her way with her, watching the witch practically pray to her before praying just as fervently back, hoping God would turn away for the moment.  _

_ Once the women were satisfied and clean, they lied in Dorothea’s bed. Dorothea gently stroked the drying red curls as the witch’s head rested against her still bare chest, cherishing the feeling of their shared body heat beneath the thin blanket, but she knew this couldn’t last forever.  _

_ “Zelda?” _

_ The witch looked up at the mortal. _

_ “Are you sure your coven won't be able to discover...what happened to the Anti-Pope?” _

_ The witch pursed her lips and returned her head to Dorothea’s body, feeling her heartbeat against her cheek. “No.” _

_ Dorothea nodded to herself, her hand traveling from Zelda’s hair to trace gentle circles over her back, thinking, but knowing there was no sweet tasting solution. If Zelda stayed with her, the coven or heaven forbid Satan himself would find her. Dorothea knew little about Zelda’s religion, but could deduce that the Devil would likely not be a forgiving god and the Anti-Pope had implied a witch and mortal union was not...favorable. If Zelda left, Dorothea would be left hoping and praying to God that she wouldn’t be found out and killed for saving her. Either way, they ran the risk of Zelda dying - dying because she attempted to save the lives of thirteen women and because she succeeded in saving one. “Is there no justice in the world of witches?” _

_ Zelda moved so she could look into Dorothea’s growing wet eyes with a small coy smile, “There will be when I run it.” _

_ The mortal snorted a laugh and wiped at her eyes, “Of course my dear. How foolish of me to ask.” _

_ Zelda’s smile grew, exposing her sharp white teeth. “Foolish indeed…..considering you’ll be helping me.” _

_ Dorothea smiled softly and stroked Zelda’s cheek with her tear wet thumb, “I won’t let you down.” _

_ “Of course not. You couldn’t even if you tried,” the witch purred, resting her nose against the mortal’s, “So…..stop trying to fix this. I can feel your mind spinning. Let yourself sleep and I will fix it. Tomorrow. You will wake and I will be gone - I promised my sister I would be back by sunrise - and then I will be back. I promise.” _

_ Dorothea frowned, “Don’t make promises you don’t know you can keep, Zelda.” _

_ “I will be back.” _

_ Dorothea gently moved Zelda’s face with a finger under her chin so she could look into the witch’s eyes, searching for lies. _

_ There were none.  _

_ “Ok.”  _

_ Zelda smiled and gently stroked the remaining tears away from Dorothea’s face. “Now, go to sleep. You’ve got to be exhausted.” _

_ Dorothea nodded and leaned up to kiss her witch, “Good night.” _

_ Zelda turned her back to Dorothea, holding her one of the mortal’s hands to her face, their fingers twining together as the mortal curled around her. Within moments Dorothea was asleep.  _

_ *** _

“I did leave before Dorothea woke, I don’t know when she woke, but it couldn’t have been until mid-day. She was exhausted…..but I left a note.”

“What did it say?” Theo asked, hugging his knees to his chest.

Zelda’s brow furrowed as she worked to recall the exact words, “....Something along the lines of “Went out for flowers. I’ll bring something exotic. It will take a while to find you something brilliant - but will be back in time for a late supper. - Z””

But, as Zelda spoke these conjured words from memory, Theo watched as Dorothea spoke them with her, word for word the note. 

Theo hesitated in asking his next question, not quite sure if Ms. Spellman actually made it back to the cabin, yet, “What did you bring?”

Dorothea frowned and shook her head, “They were white….”

“Orchids,” Zelda answered in sync with the ghost, puffing slightly. “I’d seen them when Edward and I went to the Philippines one summer to accompany our father on a research mission. I don’t know what he was researching, but Edward convinced Father to let me tag along.” 

Theo grinned, “Cool!” 

“Very cool,” Dorothea chimed, her eyes glowing as she watched the witch take a drag from a new cigarette. 

“Less cool now that imports and exports have drastically increased due to increased technology and transport, but yes…. At the time,  _ very _ cool.”

“I’m glad you were able to keep your promise,” Theo revealed, looking up at the witch, enthralled by the story, but his eyes shared the knowledge that he remembered this story doesn’t end well, particularly considering he could see the ghost of his long dead relative in the room with them.

Zelda nodded, tapping the ash off the end of the cigarette, “I wasn’t willing to break that promise. No matter what transpired - I told myself that I  _ would _ return and that I would return  _ with _ flowers….. I wanted Dorothea to see something she’d never seen before. Something from the other side of the world. Dorothea would have loved traveling.” The witch’s lips drew together again over the butt of her cigarette and sucked in the smoke and tears, before releasing only smoke. 

“Lucky for me, no one suspected a witch could have committed such a crime. Somehow it made more sense to them that the mortals were more behind such a crime than a witch,” Zelda said with the roll of her eyes.

“Cis men.” Theo agreed with the roll of his eyes, bringing back a smile to the witch’s face.

“Cis men indeed.”

***

_ Zelda was changing into a new dress when Hilda woke. _

_ “You’re back!” Hilda cried, immediately jumping up to hug her half dressed sister from behind.  _

_ “Hildy!” Zelda scolded, her arms stuck in an odd position due to the hug. _

_ “Sorry! I’m just so glad you’re back!” Hilda claimed as she bounced back, perching on the end of Zelda’s bed, “Where were you!?” _

_ “Keep your voice down!... and none of your business. I was out for a walk.” _

_ Hilda smirked and gently poked her sister’s side, “Must have been  _ quite _ the walk. You’re practically  _ glowing _ Zelds!”  _

_ Zelda rolls her eyes, the corners of her lips threatening to rise as she finished fastening her dress. “Moonlight is very good for your skin, you know this Hilda.” _

_ “Alright!” Hilda sang before bouncing off to the other side of the room to get dressed herself. _

_ Then Zelda turned, “Hilda…..am I really glowing?” _

_Hilda turned back to her sister, a smile plastered to her face to see even the small one that played on her elder sister’s lips. Zelda’s cheeks almost rosy as she began to pull her hair back into a bun. “Like a blushing bride, Sister,”_ _  
__Zelda nodded and turned to her mirror, biting her lower lip as she finished her hair. She certainly felt like a bride, although she’d never be able to say so to her darling sister._

_ Edward knocked on their door. “Sisters! We have to return to the church immediately. The high priest has called for an emergency gathering….. The Anti-Pope is missing. He suspects foul play from the mortals.” _

_“Oh, dear…..” Hilda gasped, meeting Zelda’s eyes as they both turned to each other before Zelda quickly crossed their floor to quickly tie Hilda’s dress._ _  
__“Quickly, Hilda,” Zelda scolded as she murmured a glamour spell, taking the time to apply makeup was not a luxury she had, nor did she think her hand would be still enough to perform the task, “Let’s get downstairs and pray to Satan all the mortals drop dead before they kill us all.”_

_ Hilda frowned deeply but nodded as she rushed down the stairs as Zelda stayed back for a moment and took in a deep breath, stepping forward to exit the room as Edward stepped into the doorway, blocking her with a crooked eyebrow. “You’d better be praying to Satan the warlocks believe this preposterous idea that the mortals had anything to do with the Anti-Pope’s disappearance.” _

_ Zelda looked up at Edward tired, but aghast, “Edward!” _

_ Her brother scowled down at her, “Where were you last night? Hilda almost slept in my bed last night. You had her worried sick.” _

_ “It’s none of your business, Edward,” she replied trying to push past him, but he grabbed her wrist gently, unwilling to hold her in a way she couldn’t escape, but desperate for answers.  _

_ “I’m worried it  _ might be _ my business, Zelda,” He spit. “I can only cover for you so much. What the hell is going on?” _

_ “We have a meeting to get to or the High Priest is going to be tearing down our door,” she volleyed back to him, taking his hand to lead him downstairs, but was pulled back by her brother, who quickly held her in a hug. _

_ “Edward! What is it with you and Hilda and….. embracing!?” _

_ He said nothing and just squeezed her tighter for a moment, before letting her go and holding his arm out for her.  _

_ Zelda stayed frozen, the full emotional weight of his embrace hitting her, before slowly slipping her arm into his, so he could teleport them to the church. She found herself out of breath, the hug having caught her off guard and she gently squeezed his arm as her feet hit the stone church entrance, “I….”  _

_ He removed his hat and kissed her temple as they entered the church, “I know. You would tell me if you could.” _

_ She looked up at him, her eyes watering, tears desperate to fall. She wanted nothing more than to tell him about Dorothea and everything that had happened to her over the past few days, but she knew she couldn’t. Luckily, her threatening tears weren’t out of place in the grand hall as witches right and left were in varying stages of grief over the missing Anti-Pope.  _

_ The High Priest stepped forward to speak as Zelda and Edward arrived at their seats. “Hellish Morning to you all. As you have all been informed….out Anti-Pope - Charles Vasser - has gone missing and is presumed dead. Witches. We are at war. The council and I have determined that the likely cause of death was mortal vengeance. We are not safe here. We are not safe anywhere while these witch hunts transpire. Our sacrifice of the thirteen did not sate their blood-lust and neither will thirteen more. We all need to scatter. Bury your cauldrons. Destroy your spell books and poppets. We will rebuild anew when the world is safe for our kind, but in the meantime - witch preservation is vital. May Satan save us all. Safe travels to you all. Praise Satan.” _

_ Zelda frowned deeply and looked up at Edward as the High Priest stepped back and returned to the depths of the church, clearly finished, leaving the church to murmur. “Is he serious?.......He’s calling for all witches to relocate out of Greendale?” _

_ Edward looked to their father, “Father?” _

_ Reginald Spellman nodded, “We will go to Japan. I’ve already made arrangements with a former colleague.” _

_ Zelda’s breath stuck in her chest. Japan. “When?” _

_ “We will be leaving tomorrow morning. Have everything packed tonight. The boat leaves at sunrise.”  _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter skates along the T/M ratings for a moment.
> 
> I also used one of SingofSolace's headcanons. It was too good to pass up. <3

_ Japan. The country’s name just kept circling through her brain like a winding staircase. Japan. Japan. Japan. Japan. She’d always wanted to go, but now?! She could feel the bile starting to crawl up her throat and took a deep breath, knocking on Edwards door. Her brother opened it and frowned to see her, opening it to give her entrance.  _

_ “Zelds?” _

_ She held her hands in front of her body parallel, “Is…...we should stay, you and I…” _

_ His eyes widened, shocked, “Zelda I-” _

_ “There’s nothing for us in Japan. We could stay here and protect the library and the school, where will the orphans go? They have no family to spirit them away, we can help-” _

_ She was stopped as Edward grantly grabbed her upper arms. “Zelda….the High Priest and a few of the Elder’s and their wives are staying to care for the academy and the orphan children….they don’t need us. What is this about?” _

_ Her heart dropped and she shook her head, trying to square her shoulders, but could feel them caving slightly, “Nothing……. I was simply worried about the children.” _

_ Edward squeezed Zelda’s arms, before pulling her in for a hug. “I know you're keeping secrets but I promise you sister, we’ll be alright. There’s so much waiting for us in Japan once we get off the boat. I knew that Japan would be our next stop. I just didn’t know it would be so soon, but for when we were to go I’d arranged with Seia san, the High Priest’s wife, to further your midwife training. She’d heard of your work with Lady Chesney’s case and wants you to aid her in her study of a few new techniques. She says between the two of you you may be able to save entire generations of witches despite these witch hunts.” _

_ Zelda nodded into his chest, all of this would have sounded wonderful even just two weeks ago. How quickly her life had changed and how desperately she wanted to keep it.  _

_ “Thank you, Edward.” _

_ He kissed the top of her head, “You’re welcome. I need to ensure my little sister stays in some good trouble before she finds the bad trouble for herself.” _

_ She smiled gently, praying her tears would wait a few more moments as she stepped back to kiss his cheek, “Don’t worry. I’ll always find the bad trouble.” _

_ He smirked, “I count on it.” _

_ *** _

_ She seemed to always find herself standing outside of Dorothea’s door, afraid to knock, afraid to open it. She turned, hugging her arms close to her body, careful not to damage the orchid’s that she’d conjured and looked up at the clear sky above her through the trees. The stars twinkled as if this wasn’t the worst night of her life. They twinkled as if there was hope for a better tomorrow, but Zelda couldn’t quite feel that hope.  _

_ Suddenly, the door opened and Zelda turned to meet Dorothea’s eyes as she stepped out, the woman’s imposing men’s boots hitting the wooden porch. “You’re late,” the woman teased. _

_ Zelda held out the flowers to Dorothea, “I did say a  _ late _ dinner.” _

_ Dorothea hummed and took the flowers in one hand, securing her arm around Zelda’s waist with the other, leaning down to kiss the shorter witch. Zelda couldn’t help but melt into her, feeling Dorothea’s muscular frame holding her close, while Zelda’s hands found the exposed suspender straps, flossing her fingers through them. The mortal pulled away slightly, “They’re beautiful, but not as beaut-” _

_ Zelda chuckled and stole the mortal’s words for herself with a kiss, tasting them rather than hearing them. “Hush.” _

_ Dorothea smiled and kissed the tip of the witch’s blushing nose, “Would you like something to eat?” _

_ Zelda could feel her heart clench. She wasn’t here to eat.  _

_ Dorothea frowned, “Zelda?” _

_ The witch pursed her lips and held onto Dorothea’s suspender straps, pulling the mortal closer, “....Dora… I have news.” _

_ The mortal nodded, watching the witch’s face. _

_ “My family is moving to Japan...tomorrow.” _

_ Dorothea’s jaw dropped and she stepped back, dropping the flowers, “Pardon?” _

_ Zelda leaned back against the one of the posts that held up the porch’s roof, planting her boots on the uneven boards below her. _

_ “Zelda. If you’re trying to be amusing, this is not funny.” _

_ The witch looked up at the holes in the roof before bringing her eyes back down to face Dorothea, “I…I’m not trying to amuse you.” _

_ The mortal stared at the witch, her breathing growing heavier. “Japan?” _

_ Zelda stepped forward, reaching to take the mortal’s hand but they were quickly shoved into pockets instead.  _

_ “When- When was this decided?” _

_ “This morning….” Zelda confessed resting her hands against the front of her corset.  _

_ Dorothea nodded and took in a deep, shaking breath, looking out into the woods behind the witch, before turning her hazel eyes to Zelda. The witch’s green eyes were clear and stoic, but her lower lip trembled ever so slightly in a way that could have been mistaken for a chill in the wind, but Dorothea knew better and removed her hands from her pockets.  _

_ “When do you leave tomorrow?” _

_ Zelda’s hands pressed firm against her corset, keeping her back straight, “..Sunrise.” _

_ Dorothea turned as she let the word hit her, fighting to keep her hands out of her pockets before taking one last deep breath, turning back to the witch. _

_ “I made bread.” _

_ Zelda’s jaw dropped as her mind scrambled to put pieces together.  _

_ “Come…” Dorothea urged, crossing the distance between them to pick up the orchids that rested near Zelda’s feet, offering the witch her hand.  _

_ Zelda looked from the mortal’s hand to her eyes and rested her small, immaculate hand inside the woman’s larger calloused palm, letting her lead her inside.  _

_ Dorothea led her to her bed and sat her down before setting down the flowers on the table, collecting the bread and butter to bring it back to the witch.  _

_ “Thank you…” _

_ Dorothea smiled softly and shook her head, “Late dinner is still dinner.” _

_ Zelda nodded and watched as the butter melted into the soft bread almost as fast as Dorothea spread it over it’s soft flesh. The salt of the butter hitting her tongue just right as she sank her teeth into the offering, resting her head against the mortal’s shoulder. She took in the crackle of the fire that filled the cabin with it’s homely glow and could smell the lingering smell of the stew Dorothea had prepared, but neither warmth compared to the heat that flared through her body as Dorothea’s hand rubbed her arm while the woman’s teeth broke through the hard crust of her bread.  _

_ Zelda racked her brain. It was against witch-law for witches to bond with mortals, just as it was against mortal-law for two women to bond, yet they had regardless. Witches would take further offense to the union than mortals would, therefore she would be able to take the punishment, rather than Dorothea if they were found out. Isn’t a shorter life filled with love more valuable than a longer life without love?  _

_ “You think so loudly, Dear, but what about is still a mystery.” _

_ Zelda looked up at the mortal. “I’m staying.” _

_ Dorothea frowned deeply and looked down at the witch.  _

_ Zelda nodded, her eyes certain, “I’m staying. I’m not going to Japan… that is if you’ll have me.” _

_ A pained expression crossed Dorothea’s face and she set the last few bites of her bread back on the plate, turning to the witch, resting a hand on Zelda’s knee, “Zelda...I heard the Anti-Pope…. That’s against the law.”  _

_ Zelda took Dorothea’s other hand between both of her hands, “Yes and I’m staying. It’s an unjust law. Laws such as those are meant to be broken and overcome.” _

_ Tears pricked Dorothea’s eyes as she looked into Zelda’s hopeful ones before the witch leaned in, pressing her lips to the mortal’s. Dorothea kissed the witch back and took Zelda’s hands in hers before pulling away, her tears starting to shake loose, “Zelda…..I won’t have you.”  _

_ The witch’s face fell and Dorothea quickly held her hands tighter, bringing them up to her lips to kiss the witch’s finger tips. “I won’t take you. Not because I don’t love you, Zelda. I love you. I love you so dearly it hurts…. But I won’t be your end. I won’t be the reason you die. Go to Japan, Zelda...and… and write to me. Write me a letter a year. I won’t respond to ensure no letter’s fall into the wrong hands and you stay safe, but know that I would..” _

_ Zelda’s body was overcome with cold. “Dora..” _

_ The woman kept her lips pressed to the witch’s hands, whispering into them as she spoke, “I’m sorry, Zelda. I’m so sorry.” _

_ The finality of the mortal’s words sent daggers through her lungs. Her body caving into itself as she shut her eyes, unable to meet the mortal’s gaze, trying desperately to gather the strength she would need to stand when Dorothea let go. _

_ Instead she was met with two gentle kisses, one on each eyelid before the mortal rested her forehead against her’s. The mortal sniffled and Zelda could feel the tears she’d been trying to hold back set themselves free past her eyelashes. “I’ll write. I’ll write so many letters you’ll have to purchase a trunk.” _

_ Dorothea rubbed her thumbs over Zelda’s and moved her face to kiss the witch. Zelda returned the kiss with shaky breath, her hands leaving the safety of the mortal’s the climb up her arms, pulling Dorothea closer. The mortal was only too willing to oblige as she leaned Zelda back on the bed, while Zelda’s hands removed Dorothea’s suspender straps and began to work through the buttons of the mortal’s shirt until it could be discarded.  _

_ Dorothea kissed down the witch’s face to her ear, opening her mouth to speak, but was unable to find the words before Zelda’s thin fingers discarded her belt and slipped past the waistband of the mortal’s pants to coax reverence from the mortal’s lips one last time. _

_ *** _

_ Zelda’s fingers gently ran over Dorothea’s cheeks as they lied face to face. Neither woman spoke, as the fireplace crackled for them. They ghosted each other's features, committing every concave or convex surface to memory to ensure they would never be lost. Time was of the essence and the women refused to waste it.  _

_ “Dorothea?” _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “....When is your birthday?” _

_ The woman smiled, “February 4th. Yours?” _

_ Zelda shook her head. _

_ “It’s only fair,” the mortal protested, skating her fingers down the woman’s throat.  _

_ Zelda shivered and obliged, “It’s a horrendous day. December 25th.” _

_ Dorothea couldn’t help but laugh, leaning in to kiss Zelda’s temple in apology, “A witch born on Christmas, how sacrilegious.”  _

_ Zelda whined a giggle and curled into the mortal, “I wish I could change it.” _

_ Dorothea shook her head and wrapped her arms around the witch burying her nose in the witch’s hair, “Don’t… I like the snow.”  _

_ Zelda smiled against the mortal’s skin, “Alright…” _

_ Dorothea held the witch close, letting the jasmine and amber scent fill her nose before kissing the top of the witch’s head, “Let’s get dressed.” _

_ Zelda’s smile immediately dropped, but she nodded into the moral’s warm shoulder, rising with her, taking her time to reclothe herself. She tried not to let her thoughts wander too far away and fixated on each task, until there were no more tasks to do, and she turned to Dorothea.  _

_ The mortal smiled encouragingly at the witch, but her hands were in her pockets and her eyes full of sorrow. Zelda held out her hands for Dorothea, taking them and holding them to her heart. “I love you, Dorothea.” _

_ “I love you as well, Zelda Spellman.” _

_ This was the moment, the moment they should part, but instead Zelda stood on her toes and touched her nose to the mortal’s, before kissing her again.  _

_ Dorothea kissed the witch back, letting the witch hold her hands before slowly parting, stealing only two extra kisses in the process, “Go, Zelda….your family might discover your absence.” _

_ The witch nodded and turned to face the cabin door, still holding onto the tips of Dorothea’s fingers. She wished the mortal would grab her - take her by the waist and take back her logic to whisper in her ear that she forbade her to leave. Where was their deus ex machina? Edward could burst through the door any moment, exclaiming he had a plan that would fix all of this. Satan himself could rise from the fireplace, claiming Zelda’s devotion to him had proven her worthy of this one request. If she would wait just one more moment the world would surely grant them this. Surely, the world wouldn’t be so cruel.  _

_ But nothing came.  _

_ She waited longer, her fingers creeping back to hold Dorothea’s hand and the mortal returned her gesture with a gentle squeeze. She wanted so badly to turn around and kiss her, or embrace her, or just look at her one more time, but if she did she wouldn’t leave. She had to go.  _

_ So, _

_ She did. She let go and walked to the door, her eyes welling with tears that tumbled down her face as she opened the door and stepped outside, swinging the door back gently to shut it, but there was no latch, the door didn’t shut. She couldn’t look back, she couldn’t know if she just hadn’t shut it properly, or if Dorothea had stopped the door. She wanted to run. She could feel her sobs threatening to break through her teeth, but she did her best to steel herself, walking away into the dark of the woods. _

_ She forced herself to wait until she’d gotten into the cover of the trees before breaking into a run. She ran, begging herself to wake up from this holy dream and give her another go. Perhaps if she’d saved those witches things would be different. Perhaps she could have kept her Dorothea. Letters wouldn’t be enough. Suddenly, the witch’s foot hit a branch and she crashed to the ground, the sobs she held breaking free with the impact as she clutched the ground beneath her. Her body heaved as she sobbed, clutching a root to anchor herself to the forest floor so she wouldn’t do what every limb in her body was begging her to do and go back.  _

_ She couldn’t have known how long she cried into the ground, but as her body grew weaker, her sobs had no choice but to subside enough that she could pull herself up from the ground. She took a deep shaking breath as she braced herself against a tree and then pushed herself forward and walked the rest of the way home.  _

_ Her mother was waiting for her on the porch, smoking a cigarette.  _

_ “If you’re going to fuck someone one last time, you could at least do it somewhere  _ clean _.” _

_ Zelda marched up the long set of porch steps and stole the cigarette as she walked past her to go inside, taking a long draw into the cigarette as she shut the door behind her to walk upstairs. She ignored every question that rattled through Hilda’s persistent lips and smoked the cigarette as she changed, finishing it before washing her face and hands and crawled into bed, shutting off the light. Edward would have to wake her in the morning, otherwise she wasn’t sure she would ever wake again.  _


	10. Chapter 10

“I stopped the door on her way out. I’d almost grabbed her arm to stop her, but I didn’t,” Dorothea said, breaking the silence that followed what appeared to be the conclusion of Zelda’s tale.

Theo looked up at the ghost, who’s hand hovered over Zelda’s hair, as if she wished to run her fingers over one of the witch’s large red curls, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. “.....She styles her hair differently. She used to have many more curls...they were smaller - ringlets.”

Theo frowned deeper, not sure what Sabrina’s Aunt Zelda’s hair had to do with anything, but he could feel the weight of the sentiment in the air. 

He turned his eyes back to the witch, “....Did you write the letters? To Dorothea?”

Zelda’s eyes moved away from their fixed spot on the wall to connect to Theo’s, “Of course.” The woman subtly wiped away a tear and moved to lean against the backboard of her bed. “I wrote often.”

“Almost every letter in my trunk is from her. True to her promise - I did have to purchase a trunk,” Dorothea confided proudly, clasping her hands together behind her back.

Theo smiled and thought about the letters. He’d leafed through some of them. Ms. Spellman had changed her name and address on most of them as well as her handwriting. He never would have thought the same person had written them. “The handwriting is so different on some of them. How did you change your handwriting?”

Zelda rolled her eyes with a small smile, “Theo. Handwriting is easily disguised….Did she keep some of them?”

Theo nodded and looked between them, but settled on Zelda. “....Yeah- yeah. She kept a trunk full.”

The woman’s eyes welled as she smiled gently to herself, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Theo smiled and scooted to sit next to Zelda against the back of the bed. 

“...Thank you for telling me the story..”

The woman smiled and pulled the boy into her side, resting her chin on the top of his head. “It was my pleasure. You’re a good listener.”

“You’re a good storyteller.”

Zelda pursed her lips and rolled her eyes above his head, her smile still sticking to the corners of her lips. He was much bigger than the last time she held him.

“Did your father ever tell you how lovely you were as a babe?”

Theo’s eyes widened as he looked up at her, “Kinda…..How…..You..didn’t know me as a baby?” His final questions teetering on a statement. His father had never mentioned Zelda Spellman other than in the context of Sabrina or the mortuary. He supposed Zelda had to have been around when he was born, but they didn’t really venture into town often enough to be familiar enough with the children of Greendale, or so he thought.

Zelda hugged him closer to her, “I delivered you, sweet boy. You spent your first night in my home after your mother’s passing.” 

Theo frowned as he analysed the truth in her eyes, “My father told me that Roz’s dad delivered me.”

Zelda nodded, “I know. I wiped his memory of the incident……...I’d - I’d told him more than I should have about myself. 

Theo frowned deeply and settled back into her mulling that over. “What was I like as a baby?” 

Zelda gently rubbed his arm with her thumb and settled her head back on the backboard. “I only had you for one night, but you were very brave…...you were quiet and just wanted to be held…..and you were a very good sleeper, quite unlike Sabrina.”

Theo chuckled, “Sabrina still doesn’t sleep.”

Zelda smirked, “I know….She’s her father’s daughter.”

Theo smiled to himself, relishing in having Zelda’s arm around him, wishing secretly and

selfishly that he could have had this feeling earlier. He wished he could remember being a baby - spending his first night in the Spellman house with a mother to look after him as well as his father. He wondered what it would have been like to come home to his father grilling steak on the grill to the side of their house as Zelda Spellman stood on the porch holding a newspaper, chastising his father for burning the meat, but arms open and ready to hug Theo on his way in. Surely, Principal Hawthorn would have had no choice but to suspend Billy and the other football players if Ms. Spellman had been the one to walk into his office, demanding justice for her son, unwilling to leave until she got it. How loud would she have cheered at his basketball games? He imagined you wouldn’t even be able to hear the other mother’s over her pride. The pride she carried for  _ her _ son.

Theo frowned. There was no way the devil would strike a deal with a mortal to go back in time and give him a mother, right?

“....Did you ever try to make a deal with Satan, so you could be with Dorothea?”

Dorothea’s scowl could be heard through her warning voice, “Boy.”

Zelda frowned deeper and her eyes grew sorrowful as she nodded, “Of course. But my attempts as well as my research into the matter were inconclusive. Aside from Christopher Marlowe’s work concerning Doctor Faustus - the rest seemed to be simply musings as I dug through them.” Zelda turned slightly to face Theo, curling her pointer finger under his chin, “Striking a deal with the Dark Lord only provides results if he finds you useful enough to appear to you, so after many attempts to contact him I’d begun spending much of my time devoted to my studies and my work in order to prove useful, hoping he would be willing to indulge me with the gift of his presence…...I…. I might have succeeded if I hadn’t forgotten how quickly mortal lives pass…”

_ Zelda sat on the floor, her full black skirt flared around her legs as she wrote notes to herself on the transformation of cell composition in the execution of transfiguration spells, doing to best to block Hilda and Edward’s voices from the kitchen as they discussed the state of Aunt Evanora, who had taken ill by what their father believed to be a blood curse, over the daily mail pile. They had received a letter from mother stating that it would be a while before they returned home as their father and the elders of Evanora’s church were still working to discover the cause and cure of the unusual curse before it was too late.  _

_ “Evanora is a formidable witch. If a blood curse can dismantle her then we’re all doomed,” Edward stated as he sipped his tea, holding the letter from their mother.  _

_ Hilda nodded as she looked through the other letters, “It’s got to be serious...who would do something so cruel to a fellow witch? A  _ member _ of your coven!” _

_ “I’m going to do something cruel to you if you can’t silence yourself, Hilda,” Zelda warned, her eyebrows knitting together. _

_ Edward smirked and rolled his eyes, folding their mother’s letter back up as Hilda picked up an odd looking letter, “Edward look at this one!” _

_ The warlock hummed as he looked at the letter from across the table as Hilda turned it to him. “Odd.” _

_ “There’s no return postage aside from the letters “D” and “P.” It’s a wonder the dead letter office didn’t snatch it up! It’s addressed to a Kristen Kringle. Ha! Like Santa Claus! Oi! Maybe it’s a Solstice Card! Yule’s commin’ up in a few weeks!” _

_ Zelda froze and looked up from her books.  _

_ D.P.  _

_ It couldn’t be… _

_ Kristen Kringle. _

_ Santa Claus. _

_ December 25th. _

**“Don’t...I like the snow.”**

_ Zelda sprang up from the floor and walked into the kitchen, trying to appear unphased as she swiped the letter from Edward’s grip before he could open it. “I’ll take that.” _

_ Hilda frowned, “Whatever for?” _

_ “To return to the post, obviously. And to give them a piece of my mind. No Satan  _

_ fearing witch sends Solstice cards. The post has it in them to send us a dead letter, but they have the audacity to  _ lose _ a letter I sent to Seia san. No. I won’t have it.” _

_ Edward chuckled as Zelda turned on her heel to leave the house, “Please keep the post in one piece sister, or they’ll be sure to lose more letters of yours in the future.” _

_ Zelda slammed the door behind her and quickly walked into the woods that surrounded their house, venturing far enough into the brush of the trees that she was certain Hilda and Edward wouldn’t be the wiser as to her lie and she looked at the letter. Her hands trembled as she held the cream colored post in her hands.  _

_ It was Dorothea’s handwriting. She had only seen it one or twice before, but she was sure of it. The witch wasted no time and ripped open the letter, leaning against a tree as she read. _

_ “My Dearest, _

_ I can never repay you for your loyal correspondences. There is not a day that passes that I don’t miss you. My heart aches for your absence more and more as each day passes, but your letters have always been a comfort. The silver dog statue adorned with symbols you sent recently sits on my bedside table. My nephew’s youngest son has taken to calling it Tom and asks nightly if we might read him a bedtime story. I indulge him. _

_ I deeply hope that you are well and safe. I know you’ve stated that it feels your work as a midwife can feel insignificant while the men fight the larger battles, but I can assure you that there is nothing insignificant about you or your work. You are the most magnificent woman that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  _

_ Unfortunately, I write with poor news. I’ve taken ill and I know it is my time. It is dangerous and selfish for me to write asking for one last glimpse of you as I pass, but I hope you can forgive me for my imposition.  _

_ I fear I’m fading quickly and in the event that I am not able to tell you in person, please know - I love you. I loved you the moment I met you and I will love you beyond my last breath, my dear. Forgive me.  _

_ With all of my heart, _

_ Your Beloved  _

_ Zelda’s lower lip trembled as she quickly blinked away her tears, folding the note into a small square to shove down into her corset as she quickly ran back to the house. She crashed through the door, but forced her pace to slow into what could be considered an infuriated walk as she passed her siblings in the kitchen to go upstairs.  _

_ “Zelds! What happened at the post!?” Hilda called after her. Zelda slammed the door and quickly packed a suitcase, throwing frocks and every tincture and spell ingredient she could think of into the bag. Maybe she could come up with something that could save Dorothea on the ship ride back to America. She dug into the floorboards under her bed (her father had found her stockpile in the closet and set the text’s she’d kept there on fire for her treachery) and put in any text that contained sources in healing before recovering the floorboards and snapping the suitcase shut.  _

_ Hilda opened the door as Zelda grabbed one of her furs slinging it around her shoulders, “Zelds? What’s wrong, love?” _

_“I need to go Hilda or I will simply kill the postman,” Zelda lied as she took up the suitcase, shoving past her sister._ _  
__“Zelda!” Hilda protested, following her sister down the stairs._

_ Edward scowled as he emerged from the kitchen, grabbing his sister’s arm as she moved to walk past him. “I’m sure whatever it is, it can be worked out. Zelda what did he say?” _

_ “It’s what he did. I don’t have time for this. I need to go.” _

_ Edward’s grip tightened on her arm, “Z-” _

_ He was flung back slightly, forced to let her go. “I need to go, Edward.” _

_ Her older brother's face was nothing less than shocked, stunned at her magical rejection of him and nodded. He couldn’t think of a single thing at the post that could warrant such an intense response. He hadn’t seen that look in her eyes before.  _

_ Zelda quickly left the house and used magic to place herself at the docks, before using a magic ticket to grant herself entry on the ship that was set to leave in 20 minutes time.  _

_ She was told by the captain when her heeled boots paused before taking her final step into boarding the ship that the voyage would take a little over two weeks time, but he assured her that it was the fastest voyage to America in all of Ireland. She thanked him before allowing a young sailor to lead her to her room below the deck of the ship. Finally, she thanked the young sailor and shut the door behind herself, taking in a deep shaking breath as she pressed her hands against the whalebone of her corset after setting down the suitcase beside the bed. The witch slowly sat down and curled herself into the itchy, straw- filled bed burying her face into the furs that no longer smelled like Dorothea, muttering every spell she could think of to ensure a fast and safe passage, praying Dorothea would still be there when she arrived. _

_ *** _

_ Zelda had disappeared from the ship the second it got close enough to the dock that she could use her magic to cover the rest of the distance to Greendale. _

_ Her breath caught as she appeared in the woods in front of the small cabin. It had hardly changed. There was a new swing in one of the trees close to the porch and there was a small wooden wagon on the porch, but other than that - it was the same. She quickly moved her hand to freeze any other patrons who may inhabit the house, and with her suitcase in hand quickly rushed up to the door, pausing at it. She had never opened this door from the outside. Her hand grasped the cold metal of the doorknob and she turned it to open the house.  _

_ Zelda hadn’t noticed how cold it was outside until she stepped into the warm cabin. The fire lit the open floor space with it’s golden glow as she looked to where Dorothea’s bed was kept. It was an actual bed now, rather than a bundle of well placed thick furs and Zelda quickly ran over. “Dora-”  _

_ She froze when she saw the grey haired, wrinkled woman. It was Dorothea, but she had aged so much. How? Zelda hadn’t been gone for more than sixty years. She knew logically that...yes, this was correct, but seeing it for herself made the world stand still. Could age really take mortals so quickly?  _

_She looked down at the tincture she held in her hand - to boost one’s immune system. It struck her how useless this vile was despite all of her studies into it and she slowly sunk onto the bed, perching herself on it’s edge beside the aged woman, slipping the vial back into her coat pocket so she could take Dorothea’s_ _spotted, wrinkled hand in her’s, coasting her thumb over the woman’s knuckles, “Dorothea…”_

_ Dorothea turned her tired head, her eyes slowly opening to find her Zelda. “Zelda….Oh, Zelda, you haven’t aged a day,” the old woman beamed, reaching up weakly to touch the witch’s cheek.  _

_ The witch smiled softly and held Dorothea’s hand to her cheek, tears beginning to fall, tangling with their fingers. “I got your letter.” _

_ Dorothea smiled, “Praise God... I knew it was a risk, but I had to see you one last time….” _

_ Zelda nodded, tears falling faster as she leaned down, touching her nose to Dorothea’s, “I shouldn’t have left you. A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t missed you and regretted leaving you.” _

_ Dorothea quietly shushed the witch, squeezing her hand weakly before moving it to the witch’s perched thigh, gently running her and up and down it. “You had to go. You know it would have been dangerous to stay. The church would have never allowed the union. You know this, darling.” _

_ Zelda couldn’t hold in her sobs as she moved her face to the side, burying her nose in Dorothea’s silver hair, she knew that what Dorotha said was true, but she also knew she’d never forgive herself.  _

_ “I’m so sorry, Dorothea…. I’m so sorry,” the witch whispered trying to get a hold of her sobs, they didn’t have long and she didn’t want to spend their time left crying. _

_ “Zelda, none of that,” Dorothea cooed, gently wiping away the witch’s tears before returning one hand to the witch’s thigh, the other falling weakly to her side. “None of that…” _

_ The witch nodded and sniffled, pulling out her handkerchief, bringing it up to her eyes and nose, ridding them as best she could of their moisture, before glancing around the room at the three young men who sat in chairs by the fireplace and one much younger boy who had been playing on the floor. “Your sons?” _

_ Dorothea’s eyes didn’t leave the witch’s face as she shook her head, “My brother’s. About three years after we parted he moved to America with his wife. I never married, but I lived a good life. My family was a blessing, I was never lonely helping them raise these boys and now Samuel has a son - Jonathan.” She gestured to the young boy. _

_ Zelda nodded gently rubbing Dorothea’s arm, “They’re a beautiful family.” _

_ “I was well loved. I pray you’re allowing yourself to be well loved, Zelda.” _

_ The witch nodded softly, unwilling to tell the dying woman of her deep loneliness. A loneliness that vanished the second she walked through the cabin door.  _

_ “Can you go into my bag, bring it to me,” Dorothea asked, gesturing to a black bag in the corner of the room. As loath as Zelda was to physically leave her side, she got up and retrieved the bag before resuming her position, watching as Dorothea reached into the bag and pulled out a small toy rabbit, which she passed to Zelda. “Rabbits are a symbol of hope, Zelda. They represent love and fertility - new beginnings. Zelda, promise me something. Continue to embrace new beginnings. Stay brave. Stay strong. You are already so beautiful inside and out, don’t let anyone destroy that. Know that I will always love you in this life and the next and I pray nothing but happiness will come your way,” she cooed, stroking Zelda’s fingers, the small rabbit protected in their hands.  _

_ Zelda opened her mouth to speak, but found it falling shut again before, moving one of her hands to support the older woman’s weak ones. She sat quietly, fighting tears as she looked into Dorothea’s soft unchanging brown eyes.  _

_ “Dorothea….I promise,” the witch finally replied, removing her hands from Dorothea’s and placing the rabbit in her lap, allowing a single tear to fall into its fur as she removed the diamond ring she’d gotten in the Irish market, gently easing it onto Dorothea’s left ring finger. “I love you,” she finished leaning back over gently pressing her lips to the old woman’s. “I love you so much…” _

_ “Zelda….” _

_ “Don’t argue. Please. I wish it had been done sixty years ago,” the witch replied with a _

_ soft smile. “....Just say yes.” _

_ The old woman’s eyes filled with tears that spilled onto her cheeks as she nodded, “Yes, Zelda. Forever, yes.” _

_ “Spelendid,” Zelda whispered, holding Dorothea’s hands over her heart as she kissed her again, and again, and again, each kiss getting longer, deeper and harder to part from. The witch only parting their lips to gently pepper kisses over Dorothea’s face and hands.  _

_ The old woman smirked and released one of her hands from the witch to squeeze her knee, before pulling Zelda back to her lips, running her fingers up the inside of Zelda’s thigh causing the witch to reel back in a giggly screech, “Dorothea! You should be ashamed of yourself!”  _

_ Dorothea laughed weakly, her eyes sparked with mischief as she reached up to stroke Zelda’s collarbone, “I may be on death’s door, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeves, Mrs. Putnam.” _

_ Zelda’s grin grew as she gently nuzzled her nose into the soft spot behind Dorothea’s ear, her voice tickling the older woman’s ear, “I like the sound of that…. Say it again.” _

_ Dorothea smiled and kissed Zelda’s hand, “Say what again, Mrs. Zelda Phiona Putnam?” She indulged with a coy smile. “Oh...and happy birthday, Darling.” _

_ Zelda was taken aback, “Is it the 25th?” _

_ Dorothea shook her head, “The 24th….but close enough.” _

_ Zelda smiled again and kissed the tip of the woman’s nose, “Well then, what can Kristen Kringle bring you?” _

_ “She can kiss me again and never stop.” _

_ The witch let out an amused hum and moved, kissing her wife again and again and again as requested, until suddenly Dorothea stopped kissing back. Zelda pulled away. “Dorothea?”  _

_ The old woman’s eyes were shut, her face lifeless. “Dorothea,” Zelda demanded. “Dorothea….Dora, please….. Please wake up. Don’t go. Please, don’t go.” the witch pleaded as she stroked the mortal’s face. Zelda finally understood the sentiment behind dying of a broken heart, as she truly wondered whether the pain that overtook her heart would in fact kill her too. “Dorothea?! DORA! WAKE UP!” She cried out shaking the woman’s shoulders harshly before sinking down in defeat, burying her face into the old woman’s chest, her body heaving with sobs as she stroked the soft cotton fabric of the woman’s shirt. She cursed the Dark Lord for his silence as she pleaded previously for a deal, she cursed the Church of Night for it’s laws, she cursed Dorothea’s false god for his lies of forgiveness, she cursed her father for their relocation, she cursed herself for not not realizing how fleeting mortal lives were and for not finding a way to stop Dorothea’s death before it was too late. The love of her life was gone.  _

_ “I’m so sorry, Dora…” The witch whispered between sobs as clutched to the woman, as if her hands could bring her back with sheer will, but that was not the case. Could she have gotten herself excommunicated? Could the coven have been merciful and just stripped her of her witch powers and made her mortal so she wouldn’t be far behind in death? Could she have pleaded with the Dark Lord - surely there was a book she hadn’t found that contained the secret to immortality. Could Dorothea have signed the Book of the Beasts? _

_ How could she not have seen the time passing?  _

_ She sobbed until her ribs ached against her corset, her eyes dry from dehydration, and the witch forced herself to slowly remove her body from the old woman’s. She gently started to fuss with the woman’s clothes and blankets, touching her arms and hands, positioning them over the woman’s still chest before continuing to move down the mortal’s body, her sniffles slowly dissipating. She smoothed out every wrinkle in the woman’s clothing and blankets as tears periodically snuck down her face and made sure Dorothea’s toes were tucked into the soft knit blanket before moving back to her face.  _

_ The witch gently rubbed off the lipstick marks she’d left on the older woman’s lips and fluffed the soft gray hair around her face before leaning down to press her forehead to the woman’s. She wasn’t cold yet. Zelda wasn’t sure if she could leave the woman - her wife, but Zelda knew if she didn’t she would have to feel the woman’s skin grow cold and she wasn’t sure if she could stand to feel such lifelessness from a woman who was nothing but warmth and life, so she did what she could to muster the strength in her body to unroll her spine to stand. She took Dorothea’s ringed hand in hers one more time, squeezing it gently before setting it back and turned away from her.  _

_ The witch paused and looked down at the floor, at her shoes, at the glow of the floorboards, at the small rabbit toy that had fallen. She took up her suitcase and the small toy and walked to the door, all of this feeling so painfully familiar, but this time she turned as she reached the door and looked back at the woman.  _

_ “Goodbye, my Dearest.” _

_ Zelda turned back to the door and opened it, stepping outside onto the porch, making sure the door gently clicked behind her so none of the warmth would leave before venturing out towards the town, unfreezing the Putnam household.  _

_ She needed to find lodging, but she didn’t know what could possibly be open on Christmas Eve at this time of night. She quietly walked down the long path from Dorothea’s cabin to town, snow slowly beginning to fall around her, sticking to the ground and her boots as she wandered, her skirts slowly growing heavy with the cold wet snow as she arrived in the town center.  _

_ She looked around at all of the little empty shops and houses, holding the little rabbit to her chest. Each building cold and dark, aside for one. One of the smaller churches had it’s candles lit and Zelda slowly walked in that direction. She could hear the church member’s singing in the building as she got closer, their voices ringing over the phrases, “God rest ye merry gentlemen - let nothing you dismay -remember Christ our savior was born on Christmas day - to save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy - comfort and joy - oh, tidings of comfort and joy.”  _

_ The witch slowly approached and sunk down against the side of the building behind a bush, letting their choral sounds overpower her as she let the snow around her chill her. She clutched the fur around her shoulders as she looked up into the falling sky where a singular star shone above her. She couldn’t decide if it was Dorothea looking down on her, or Dorothea’s god mocking her, but either way the star didn’t stay in her vision long before it was clouded by tears. She would never see Dorothea again. At least mortals could convene after death in heaven. Witches could convene after death in hell. There was no way for a witch to re-join a godly woman. _

_ Suddenly the church bells rang. The bells chimed twelve times, the vibrations shivering their power through the church’s walls against Zelda’s back as they signaled the time. It was the 25th.  _

**“Happy Birthday, Darling….”**

_ Zelda looked down at the small rabbit toy and stroked it’s face with her thumbs, keeping the fur out of the beaded eyes. She wasn’t sure if she could find this hope - these tidings of comfort and joy, she was so tired.  _

_ Slowly, she drug herself out of the snow and walked around the church to find an unlocked cellar and she pried the doors open and stepped down into the dark. It wasn’t hard to find enough hay to begin a small fire as the floor was littered with it and the witch slowly settled down to lie on the cold hard ground, using magic to contain the fire, exhaustion overtaking her. Edward wouldn’t be here to wake her this time. Perhaps she would never wake again.  _

_ Overhead the church kept singing, lulling her to sleep with hymns she had never heard. _

_ Dorothea must have known them all.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a page out of hypothetical_chainsaw's book because the song fit. <3 This chapter was very different 48 hours ago until Pentatonix's "O Come, Oh Come Emmanuel" followed by their "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman" shot into my spotify shuffle. Hecate works in mysterious ways! Lmaoo! Sorry not sorry for ruining Christmas! <3
> 
> There are still about two chapters left so never fear!
> 
> I love and appreciate you all in going on this journey with me! I cherish every comment you leave and think about them often. I'm sorry I have a horrible time remembering to respond when I have time to do so!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Macabre Zelda Alert (some of you experienced this a bit in "Her Specialty")   
> Tw; Embalming

Theo could feel his heart fall as he looked over to the drawer where Zelda had hidden the rabbit. He could feel the witch’s hands gently tighten on his arms, keeping him where he was as her body shook gently beside him. He knew he should say something, but he didn’t know what he could say. He started to turn his head to look up at her, but the witch quickly returned her trembling chin to his head, keeping her face out of his sight as her tears hit his hair. 

He looked to Dorothea, who watched Zelda with eyes full as she wrung her hands together, squeezing her left hand with her right as if to feel the ring against her fingers to assure herself it was there. 

“.....Could you do a  seánce ? Don’t witches do that?” He asked, his voice thin. Dorothea shot him a scowl as she wiped away a tear, but despite the ghost’s protesting glare, he could see the question pricking her own tongue as she looked to Zelda.

The witch sniffled and took in a deep shaking breath before carefully continuing.

_ There was still a crackle in the air as the witch slowly came back to her senses. She didn’t open her eyes, but she could feel the soft fox fur around her cheeks, the coarse rabbit fur under her fingers, and the cold hard dirt under her body. Her muscles were stiff from sleeping on the ground and her feet felt like anvils in her shoes, but the smell of eggs and fresh bread filled her nostrils….. _

_ Eggs and bread? _

_ The witch opened her eyes and saw a plate of breakfast that had been set beside her fire, an old bearded man wearing entirely black with only a small white square below his adam’s apple sat on the stairs of the cellar. Zelda quickly shot up and scooted back to the wall, her back hitting the hard wooden panels as her hands steeled on the ground.  _

_ The man looked up and quickly put a hand out, setting the Bible he was reading down. “Good morning.” _

_ Zelda’s jaw set, looking between him and the food on the floor, her mouth watering at the smell as it continued to assault her nose, but refusing to trust it.  _

_ The man slowly stood up, “I’m Father Marion Xavier… Are you alright?” _

_ He sounded genuine, but that wasn’t a risk a witch could take. Zelda said nothing. If he just took a few more steps forward she would be able to snatch her things and potentially make a run for it… the closer he got to one side of the fire, the better chance she would have.  _

_ She watched his eyes as they ran over her, analyzing her as he stood in front of the staircase. “You have nothing to fear from me…we share a friend.” _

_ Zelda’s lips pulled into a scowl as she slowly stood, her hands travelling up the wooden wall to keep herself steady, feeling a bit dizzy, dehydrated. She raised her chin. “You don’t know who I am….or what I’m capable of. It would be in your best interest to step aside, Father.” _

_ The man didn’t move, his eyes tearing up slightly as he spoke, “....You’re Freya. I’d know the craftsmanship of that fur around our neck anywhere.” _

_ Zelda’s scowl deepened, as she braced her back against the wall. Freya? _

_ He took an infuriatingly small step forward, “Please eat...you’ve traveled a great distance.” _

_ The witch kept her eyes on the priest, refusing the distraction. Her scowl began to falter as the fur tickled her neck, her chin threatening to shake, but she had to ask, “....Who’s craftsmanship?” _

_ The priest frowned deeply, “Dorothea Putnam’s, ma’am. She confessed to me you might arrive…- that she’d set a letter that could harm you. She came to me for penance for sending the letter, but instead I encouraged her to pray for your safe arrival. I’m glad you did….but...I’m afraid you’re too late.” _

_ Zelda’s jaw clenched as a few tears slipped down her cheeks.  _

_ “I confess...I thought you would be much older from how she spoke of you….” _

_ She moved away from the wall to take up her suitcase and the rabbit, wiping away her tears and stood beside the fire. She wished she had been.  _

_ “I didn’t mean to offend. Please stay. Eat.” _

_ Zelda shook her head. “I need to go. There’s nothing for me here.” _

_ “...The funeral is tomorrow. Stay.” _

_ The witch watched the priest and clutched the suitcase’s handle, her body feeling weak and defeated, wanting nothing more than to sit back down and eat the food he’d prepared for her, but did he know she was a witch? If he did it could very well be poisoned, but then again….perhaps that wouldn’t be such a horrid thing. Her shoulders sank. _

_ “...Why are you helping me?” _

_ The priest frowned deeply and took another two steps forward, finally leaving enough space that she could get by and escape. “We share a friend Freya. It’s the right thing to do. Our Lord and Savior demands that we aid those in need and right now that is you.” _

_ Zelda looked down to the ground at the edge of her skirt, Dorothea had stated similar to her when they’d first met. She gathered her shoulders back to brace herself before looking back up at him, “Your god wouldn’t want you to help me.” _

_ The priest looked her up and down, trying to find the cause of her sin, and looked back into her eyes, “One can always change their line of work, Freya….” _

_ He thought she was a prostitute. Zelda’s lips drew into a hard line. She supposed at least a prostitute wouldn’t be burned at the stake.  _

_ “Not always.”  _

_ The priest took a few steps forward and gently took her elbows in his hands, “Our God is a forgiving God. Perhaps you have a place here, dear.” _

_ Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but shut it as the priest continued. _

_ “-We have no one to prepare the dead in this town… no place to take them other than the church, so we prepare the bodies here. My alter boy has left to minister abroad and some of the procedures are done better with small hands.” _

_ Zelda’s jaw dropped.  _

_ “I know that’s a horrid request of you considering in this case you would know the deceased…...but we all deserve a second chance Freya. Please. Stay. Dorothea would never forgive me from her grave if I allowed her dearest friend to walk away unfed, back into the devil’s grasp when I could have aided her, even if just for a few days.” _

_ Zelda watched the priest, not sure what to do. She wasn’t sure she could stand to see Dorothea like that...to prepare her body, but a small portion of her wanted, no - needed to touch her again. Perhaps, it would bring her solace to ensure she was put to rest by her own hands. She  _ really _ couldn’t stay in the church - the Dark Lord would never forgive it, but he also wasn’t omniscient like the false god claimed to be. She was sure there were more pressing issues the Dark Lord was concerning himself rather than her, it was unlikely he would even know.  _

_ “Alright.” _

_ “Alright?” the priest looked surprised. _

_ Zelda nodded, “....I would like to see her through her end…..” _

_ He smiled softly and squeezed her elbows, “I warn you dear….it’s not always pretty, but it brings me comfort to see the deceased finding a dignified end among their families.” _

_ She smiled and nodded, tears pricking her eyes.  _

_ He smiled wider. “Alright. I’ll leave you to eat and change. I’ll be back to collect you in an hour. We need to pick up the body from the Putnam’s.” _

_ And with that he left the woman in the cellar beside the fire she’d built, still holding her few belongings. She looked at the staircase and pursed her lips in his absence. She set down the suitcase and placed the rabbit on top of it and then picked up the plate of food. She would leave after the funeral. What Satan didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.  _

_ *** _

_ Zelda rubbed her hands together, fighting against the bitter cold as her and the priest stood outside of Dorothea’s cabin. Father Xavier knocked on the door and stood with his hands folded in front of him in wait.  _

_ The family was quick to answer the door and they were greeted by what appeared to be the eldest of her nephews. Zelda wondered if Dorothea’s brother had already passed. She hadn’t asked. “Thank you for coming, Father,” the man stated. His eyes rimmed red. Then he looked beyond him to see Zelda and he frowned, “Father, who -” _

_ “This is -” _

_ “Margaret,” Zelda interrupted, just in case Dorothea had mentioned the name Freya to her nephews. _

_ “She’s my new assistant for the time being. It’s our pleasure.” _

_ Zelda reached out and took his hand as she entered the warm cabin, burying her emotions more easily than she anticipated as she focused on the work, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Putnam.”  _

_ He nodded and shook her hand. _

_ “She’s a bit pretty to be around the dead, Father, are you sure she’s got the stomach?” retorted one of the younger nephews surly as he failed to hide his tears while he sat at the foot of Dorothea’s bed.  _

_ “I can assure you she’s quite capable, James,” Father Xavier replied before approaching the bed, taking Dorothea’s hands in his, pausing and looking down at the new ring, surprised.  _

_ Zelda froze. _

_ “We don’t know where that came from, Father, but it felt wrong to remove it,” the older Putnam stated as he stood beside Zelda.  _

_ The priest nodded, “We all have secrets…. Only the Lord could have known her fully. I’m sure she wrote up a last will and testament?” _

_ The third brother nodded and handed the priest a bundle of papers to the priest, who took out a pair of spectacles and motioned for the men to join him at the table. Zelda began to follow, but the youngest brother shot her a look that gave her pause. She wasn’t trusted and therefore not invited. Zelda watched them all sit down to pour over the documents and slowly turned, debating the walk to Dorothea’s bedside, but wasn’t sure she would be able to keep her composure if she was so close. Her mortal love looked so….distant on her bed. There was no trace of her here. _

_ She could feel tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes and quickly blinked them away, scanning the room to find anything else to focus on, her eyes settling on Dorothea’s young grand-nephew, who was holding the small silver dog she had sent on a stool in the corner.  _

_ “Hello,” she greeted, as she arrived in front of the boy.  _

_ The boy couldn’t have been more than four and his eyes widened as he looked up from the dog to see her. _

_ Zelda cocked her head to the side, unsure of why his eyes would feel the need to widen so.  _

_ The boy watched her intensely before he reached out and touched her skirts, looking down at their patterns before he lifted the skirts to look at her shoes. “What are “smart boots”?” _

_Zelda’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the corner of her mouth couldn’t help but pull up into a smile. “Well, I would like to believe that_ ** _my_** _boots would be considered “smart boots.”’_

_ The boy nodded and tapped the laces with the little silver dog, before looking up at her, “Do you have a mole on your face?” _

_ “A mole?!” _

_ He nodded as he played with the embroidery on her skirt, moving to sit back onto the stool, “My Grandma Dora told me stories about an angel who wore big skirts, smart boots, red hair, and had a mole, who comes when you’re sad and makes you feel better. Do you have a mole?” _

_ Zelda’s heart clenched as she knelt down in front of the boy and moved her tight red curls to the side, revealing the witch’s mark on her temple, “This mole?” _

_ The little boy’s eyes widened and he reached out to touch it, his brown eyes full of wonder.  _

_ “Do you feel sad, Jonathan?” She gently pried, watching his eyes as his small hand reached from the mole to touch her hair, feeling it’s soft red bounce.  _

_ He nodded and started to sniffle, his lower lip pulling out as large tears gathered in his eyes and fell down his ruddy cheeks.  _

_ Zelda’s eyes welled and she opened her arms to the boy, “Me too…” _

_ The child quickly crashed into her arms, his tears wetting her hair as he wrapped his arms around her neck. “...Papa said - Grandma Dora - had to go see God and can’t- can’t tell me stories any-anymore!” He cried into her.  _

_ The witch held the boy as close as she could, gently rocking him in her arms as she scooped him into her lap.  _

_ “Are you here to bring Grandma Dora back?” he asked with wet hopeful eyes, surprising her. _

_ Zelda frowned deeply and shook her head, wiping tears away from her cheeks, “No, Darling. It was your grandmother’s time to go, but I am here to help you feel better.” Zelda gently turned the boy so he sat in her lap facing out and she took his hands, cupping them and the small silver dog in her palms. “You see this dog?” _

_ Jonathan nodded, sniffling, his small feet on her knees, while his soft hair rested against her collarbone.  _

_ “Tom is a very good dog. He loves to listen to stories and you’ll have to keep telling them to him and he will tell those stories to your Grandma Dora, so she will hear them all. Tom is here to remind you that your Grandma is never far. She may not be here in the physical realm, but she is certainly in your little heart and in the air around you, watching over you and protecting you from the world’s harm. With this little dog she is always with you.” _

_ The boy sniffled and moved one of his hands to trace his finger over celtic knot patterns on the dog. “He’ll tell my stories to Grandma Dora?” _

_ Zelda gently kissed the top of his head, “Every one until you see her again.” _

_ The boy turned and looked up at the witch, “When will I see her again?” _

_ “Hopefully not for a very long time. But, that will give you two much to talk about when you do meet again.” _

_ He frowned and nodded, taking the dog from her hands to hold it. “Papa said that Father Xavier is gonna take Grandma Dora away to the church……” _

_ Zelda nodded and stroked his hair, “That is true. I’ll be going with them. Father Xavier and I are going to clean up your grandmother and tend to her so that you will be able to say goodbye to her tomorrow, so that she can join -God.” She explained with only slight hesitation on the name of the false god.  _

_ The boy nodded and rested his head against her chest, turning the dog in his hands.  _

_ “Is that alright, Jonathan?” _

_ The boy nodded, listening to her heartbeat.  _

_ “Margaret? We must go and prepare the body,” Father Xavier called.  _

_ Zelda looked up and nodded, gently lifting the boy and setting him back on his feet. “I will take care of your Grandmother until you can see her tomorrow. I promise. Be a good boy, Jonathan.” _

_ He nodded and wiped at his nose, “Yes, ma’am…” _

_ She smiled softly and gently tapped his nose as she stood. “Keep your chin up….”  _

_ Then she turned and walked over to Father Xavier. The Putnam men had already loaded Dorothea’s body into their wagon.  _

_ The priest held out his hand to help her back up into her seat and she obliged, trying her best to keep her own chin up, while he climbed in after her.  _

_ “...You did well, dear,” he praised, gently tucking a curl behind her ear before flicking the reins.  _

_ Zelda looked back at him shocked and then turned her attention to her hands.  _

_ It had been a long time since she’d heard words like that.  _

_ *** _

_ “By using a stitch that stays inside the mouth, I’ve found that no one is the wiser,” he explained, handing her the needle and flesh colored nylon thread. _

_ Zelda nodded, taking the objects and pulled the thread through the needle before tying the knot to the end, propping the magnifying lens in her eye, leaning over Dorothea to get to work. According to Father Xavier, although it may not smell for a few days, the human body begins to decompose fairly quickly after death and that was proving true as Dorothea’s throat and torso had already begun to cave in and her jaw grew slack, exposing her teeth in a more gruesome manner than one would wish to see their loved one in to mourn. They had already cleaned the body and had used crumpled up pages of the Bible to fill her throat and torso, keeping it firm for the viewing. This makeshift preservation method wouldn’t last long, but Father Xavier ensured that it would last through tomorrow morning.  _

_ They would have to bury her in the afternoon when the ground would be at its warmest and even then, fighting the snow and the hard ground would prove difficult.  _

_ Gently, she pulled the needle through the flesh between the woman’s lips and teeth, sewing the thin flesh shut until her jaw was reconnected and her teeth were once again covered by her now pale lips.  _

_ “You have an eye for detail, Dear,” Father Xavier praised as she tied the end of the thread, hiding the knot in the corner of Dorothea’s lips.  _

_ Zelda smiled softly, looking up at him. “Thank you.” _

_ “Now, you see how the skin around her eyes is sagging causing the lid to pull back?” _

_ Zelda nodded, gently touching just under the corner of Dorothea’s eye. “Yes.” _

_ “In order to keep the eye from exposing itself further, the common method was to place pennies over it as the eyes have already begun to sink into the head, but now that glue has become more widely available… ” He handed her the small glass bottle and retrieved two small metal concave pieces. “I’ve begun to use these….” He stated, peeling her eyelids back slightly to slip the pieces into each eye, causing it to regain it’s round shape. “Like so...and now the glue.” _

_ Zelda nodded, understanding and gently glued the eyelids to the dead woman’s face, holding them down so the adhesive would stick.  _

_ “Precisely.”  _

_ The priest walked over to the corner of the cellar and removed a large blanket from what Zelda had thought was simply a chest, revealing a coffin.  _

_ Zelda kept her fingers firm on Dorothea’s eyes as she watched Father Xavier drag the heavy wooden coffin beside the table. She couldn’t help but smirk as he tried to hide his gasps for air, the wooden box heavier than it appeared.  _

_ He rolled his eyes with a growing smile and gently mimed a smack to her forehead seeing her silent giggle, which caused her to actually giggle. “You think it’s funny to watch an old man struggle? Next time you can move it, Delilah!”  _

_ “I have to hold her eyes!” _

_ He chuckled and moved to sit down on the steps. “I’m getting too old for this work.” _

_ Zelda smiled, “we can get the Putnam men to move the coffin into the church.” _

_ He nodded and watched Zelda as she diligently kept her fingers steady.  _

_ “You’re not a Christian woman.” _

_ Zelda glanced back up to him, feeling a chill, before returning her eyes to her work, “Is that a question, Father?” _

_ He shook his head, “No. Just thinking out loud.” _

_ Zelda pursed her lips, not sure what to say. _

_ “Although I am curious how a prostitute and a woman of God came to become friendly.” _

_ Zelda frowned deeply, her pinky finger coasting over Dorothea’s cheek. “....She was kind to me when she could have turned me away as most of your kind seem to,” Zelda stated with a pointed look.  _

_ The priest nodded, “You speak truth, dear. You will find no rebuttal from me. Although, I’m sure she offered you her home….a place to stay. A place to begin anew.” _

_ Zelda slowly let go of Dorothea’s eyes, relieved they stayed in place before she gently took Dorothea’s ringed hand in both of her’s. “I was unable to stay, Father.” _

_ He frowned and stood up, “Why? The church would have taken you in.” _

_ Zelda’s throat started to feel thick and she shook her head, looking down at their hands rather than at the priest. She knew there must have been more than one church, but she held Dorothea’s hand tighter while the “Amen” that rang through the Greendale Square on that cursed hanging day echoed through her ears. His small church could not have protected her from the larger cruelties of the town - let alone the Dark Lord. “No.” _

_ The priest came around the table and gently placed a hand on her arm, “......The church can take you in  _ **_now._ ** _ You don’t have to go back. I beg you Freya. You have gifts and a greater purpose in this world than to sell yourself for a man who couldn’t give a d-...who couldn’t care if you lived or died. Please stay.” _

_ Zelda clenched her jaw and as she looked down at Dorothea, her eyes filling with tears.  _

_ He gently squeezed her arm and subconsciously she expected a harsh word or action to follow her outward display of emotion, but none came. Instead he let her go and walked to the stairs, turning back only to say. “Please, think about it.  _ **_I_ ** _ would like you to stay. You’re quite good company, dear,” and with that he left. Walking up the stairs, leaving Zelda to finish the final touches.  _

_ The witch let the tears fall once the cellar door shut, keeping Dorothea’s hand in hers as she slowly sank to her knees, resting her head against the table as her sobs bubbled to the surface. What was she really doing? Studying her scriptures praying Dorothea would be returned to her by the Dark Lord if she memorized every word of his text? Practicing as one of five midwives in the Church of Dark Clover? She was nowhere near a position to actually enact change in the coven, they won’t even let her teach because she was a woman, despite her practically perfect marks from the academy. What could she possibly be accomplishing anymore and why? Why? Dorothea lay dead and it was becoming glaringly clear that the Dark Lord had no interest in her and the potential she had if some warlock was able to do the same leading tasks. If she’d known the path she’d chosen would lead her to nothing other than kneeling in a Christian church basement of all places, holding her dead lover’s hand with nothing to show for all of her dedication to the Dark Lord would she have left the cabin that night?  _

_ She gasped a final sob and gently kissed Dorothea’s hand while she rose to finish making up the woman’s face. No. She would not have. Surely she had been right and choosing love would have been the correct choice.  _

**_Wasn’t a shorter life filled with love more valuable than a longer life without love?_**

_ Zelda wiped away her remaining tears and held her running nose until it subsided before picking up the rouge the priest had left in order to bring some warmth back to Dorothea’s ashen face. Perhaps, she would stay this time. Father Xavier could use her. The Dark Lord was a silent god. She had no reason to believe he would even notice her sabbatical. _

_ Yes. She would stay.  _

_ It felt good to be needed, even if it was under the false-god’s steeple.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said 2 more chapters, but it turns out there were 3 left in me!   
> A certain sub-character who shall not be named *cough, cough* Father Xavier - gave Zelda an offer I didn't expect and it honestly tied a lot of questions I had together in a way that I couldn't help myself but to digress and change up my original plan into this better plan. We love it when you plant little nuggets into other fics that you don't expect to use and then... here we are! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed!!! I cherish every one of you and your comments. I read each of them at least 100 times! <3<3<3<3<3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time (I think two months) but I hope this update is worth it.  
> The last chapter will be posted before CAOS resumes (but hopefully closer to Christmas).  
> Thank you all so much for your patience and for all the comments that I reread to get back into it (Deb's is convinced that I was stalling because I didn't want to let Dorothea go - I think she was right. <3)
> 
> Taylor Swift really released a song titled "Dorothea" yesterday, huh? Brb as Zelda and I sob about it.

_ Zelda hadn’t heard Father Xavier as he walked down the cellar stairs. Her hands were busy, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in Dorothea’s blouse. Everything had been smoothed to perfection, but her hands stayed present over the old woman’s body. Her fingers moving to stroke the soft wrinkles around Dorothea’s eyes and lips, entranced at the effects of age. Dorothea had changed so much in such a short period of time - still lovely, but so very different. She had even cut her hair shorter. It fit.  _

_ “Zelda?” _

_ Zelda looked up, blinking away the beginnings of tears to see Father Xavier.  _

_ Then her eyes widened, realizing her mistake. _

_ A small smile played on his lips as he held a few furs and a Bible in his hands in front of him. “I wondered if that might be you?” _

_ Zelda scowled, stepping away from Dorothea, further from him, wary. _

_ “It was detailed in the will that Dorothea had written the day before she died that “should she arrive” these few furs and her Bible were to be left to a Zelda S, which I may not have thought twice about had she not confessed “Freya’s” potential arrival in the same manner.” _

_ The witch stepped around the table, her eyes widening slightly, looking between him and the items in his hands. _

_ “Well, I asked the Putnam Boys to bring the items left to Zelda to the church when they arrived for the funeral, telling them I knew how to contact her…..… These are for you,” he finished holding out the items.  _

_ Zelda slowly stepped forward and took the furs and Bible into her hands, holding them close, unable to believe Dorothea had left her something. The furs she could understand, but the religious text seemed out of place.  _

_ “She left me her Bible?” The witch asked softly, gently stroking the soft leather cover, the object feeling disconcertingly familiar, despite the anxiety that pricked at her wrists for holding such an sacrilegious object in her hands.  _

_ The priest smiled sadly, folding his hands in front of him, “Dorothea’s Bible was her most cherished possession. I would only assume she would leave it to the person she cherished most. I believe she wrote an inscription in the front cover for you, but I would wait to read it as the Putnams are waiting to take the body into the church.” _

_ She nodded as he moved to take her belongings, putting them under the staircase, gesturing for her to set the items there. She complied with the furs, but kept the Bible firmly encased in her fingers, holding it close to her chest.  _

_ Father Xavier began to walk up the stairs, but paused and turned back to her.” _

_ “Also…..I’ve prepared a place for you in the church. We can move your belongings there when we finish today…. if you would like. It would at the very least be more comfortable than this cellar.” _

_ Zelda’s eyes widened, shocked.  _

_ He had stated that he enjoyed her company, but she hadn’t expected to be invited to stay in the church.  _

_ Could she stay in the church? _

_ She wasn’t even sure if she would be able to walk through the doors. She’d heard horror stories and rumours of witches bursting into flames upon entrance into structures dedicated to the false god. She wasn’t sure how much truth there was to those stories and the thought was terrifying.  _

_ Father Xavier frowned, seeing the look on her face. “I’m afraid I’ve overstepped.” _

_ Zelda quickly placed a hand on his arm, “No! Father.” She took a deep breath, looking down at her feet for a second before glancing back to Dorothea. Dorothea had trusted this man. Perhaps she could too. She looked up at him. “There’s something I should tell you-” _

_ The door to the cellar was flug open and the youngest Putnam, James, appeared above them with Dorothea’s rifle strapped to his back. “Father. We’re ready to take her. Guests have begun arriving.” _

_ Father Xavier rested his hand over her’s and squeezed. Her confession would have to wait.  _

_ They emerged from the cellar and Zelda pulled her old fur around her shoulders tightly as the chill of the air around them settled against her neck and cheeks. The snow was heavy around them and still falling. It would be difficult to bury Dorothea today, but she would have loved the snow. _

_ One by one the Putnam Boys descended down into the church cellar to retrieve the body.  _

_ Zelda could feel her heart starting to pull. Dorothea’s care was out of her hands now.  _

_ “Miss Margaret!” _

_ Suddenly, a small body crashed into her legs, encasing them in a hug before he held up a well preserved stuffed fox that had clearly been made by Dorothea’s hand. “Look what Grandma Dora gave me for Christmas!” _

_ She smiled, fighting a tremble in her lips and she patted the fox’s head, “What’s its name?” _

_ His grin stretched further, “Margaret!! Cause it has red hair too!” _

_ She praised the name softly as she reached out to stroke his hair, but all of her cooing words were swallowed as Dorothea emerged from the cellar. _

_ With the sun shining against their faces, despite the cold, the old woman’s face looked ghastly. She looked dead. She should have added more rouge to Dorothea’s cheeks. She should have used a glamour. Dorothea had looked fine in the dimly lit cellar. She should have known the light would do exactly what light does - reveal.  _

_ Zelda moved slightly towards the body, desperate to fix it. If she froze everyone for just a second she could fix it.  _

_ Father Xavier’s hand came up from behind her, to rest on her back, whispering to her, “You did wonderfully.” _

_ She had not.  _

_ Her eyes were glued to the woman as the priest’s hand kept her grounded in the snow. Dorothea’s hands were close to mustard in color. She hadn’t thought to color them, too busy touching them. There was a hard line under the woman’s chin where she’d halted her paints. Why had she done that? She should have blended it out. She should have continued down her neck. Her throat was still caving slightly. They should have added more paper. She needed to add more paper.  _

_ Satan, let me add more paper! _

_ Father Xavier’s hand pressed against her back to begin to lead her forward to follow the corpse with the family.  _

_ She was confronted with Dorothea’s feet. She should have dusted off the bottoms of her boots. The forest was still all over them.  _

_ Her throat was beginning to thicken as if it contained all of the paper she wanted desperately to put into Dorothea’s. Her hands shifted on the woman’s Bible, letting the cold leather shock the breath out of her lungs. Breathe.  _

_ Breathe.  _

_ Zelda looked down to the snow at her feet while she walked, relying on Father Xavier’s hand for guidance.  _

_ Breathing in as the snow kicked up. _

_ Breathing out as she stepped down.  _

_ Breathing in as the snow kicked up. _

_ Breathing out as she stepped down. _

_ In as the snow kicked up. _

_ Out as she stepped down onto the church steps.  _

_ She looked up - confronted by the large looming wooden church doors. They were a deep wooden brown.  _

_ With each step she could feel her breathing quicken. She could hear Johnathan saying something to her in his high pitch. Her brain spun. What if the rumours were true? She should stop now, but what would she say? How would she explain herself?  _

_ Her boots felt heavy as she continued. Two more steps up.  _

_ James looked back at her, a scowl gracing his face.  _

_ She stepped up again. _

_ Jonathan was calling her name, his hand tugging on her skirt. _

_ Would she combust in front of him? _

_ One last step. _

_ She felt faint, dark spots quickly clouding her vision as she surged forward, grabbing Dorothea’s foot, almost pulling the body off balance as she crossed the threshold of the church.  _

_ “Margaret!” _

_ Father Xavier pulled her against him as James shifted the body back into place on the plank.  _

_ All eyes turned to them.  _

_ “I told you she was too pretty to work with the dead,” the youngest Spellman snarled, tears pricking his eyes. _

_ “James,” the oldest Putnam brother, Matthew scolded, before composing them to finish the walk to the front of the church.  _

_ Zelda could feel her sense beginning to come back to her, pressing her hand against her corset as she looked around the church. She was in the church. She hadn’t burned. Praise Satan. She took a moment to just take in her feet against the floor, her hand clutching the priest’s arm and then she looked up. Her eyes widened with awe at the humble, but reverent wooden structure.  _

_ She’d never been to church in the light. _

_ Everything in the building was lit by the sunlight. The large star’s rays bled through every window adding a heavenly glow to the congregation’s pews. Even a small stained glass construction of the false god, cast a beautiful golden halo around the pulpit at the front of the church and in this instance - her love as well, as they laid Dorothea’s body on a large table that sat in front of the pulpit.  _

_ “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Father Xavier whispered. _

_ She nodded and looked back to him. She could feel her lower lip beginning to tremble and quickly brought a hand up to still it.  _

_ He shook his head and let go of her with an encouraging smile. “I told you you had done well. Find a seat. The sermon will be beginning soon.” _

_ Zelda nodded speechless as he left to speak with the church elders and she finally turned her attention back towards her feet to where Jonathan had been, only to see him now walking away holding onto his mother’s hand. She looked around at all of the seats. Many sets of eyes were still on her after her falter. She wasn’t sure where to sit. Where does a guest sit in the false god’s church? _

_ The witch looked back to Dorothea’s body trying to ignore her heart’s pull as she walked to the right, staying to the back of the church, sitting down in the deepest corner of the last pew. She took a deep breath and sunk into the wood before looking down at the Bible in her hands. The light through the windows made the rings on her fingers glow over the faded leather cover. She gently traced her finger over the cross symbol when a figure stepped up beside her. _

_ Zelda looked up to see a middle aged woman frowning softly as if not sure what to do.  _

_ Zelda quickly stood, “I’m sorry! I’m in your seat. I wasn’t sure where I could si-” _

_ The woman’s dark eyes widened and she held up her hand. “No, It’s alright, ma’am! I’ll find a chair.” _

_ “No, I insist! I’m sorry!” Zelda apologized beginning to exit the pew before the woman gently touched her hand. _

_ Her dark calloused palm shook slightly as Zelda’s eyes connected to the woman’s, her breath catching. “Ma’am, you truly don’t have to move. Did you know her?” _

_ Zelda could feel the world still and she slowly sat back down bringing the with her, nodding softly. “Yes. Did you?” _

_ The woman nodded. “She taught me how to read…” _

_ The witch’s jaw began to work and she squeezed the woman’s hand as tears filled their eyes. “Her kindness was like no other.” _

_ The woman squeezed her hand back.  _

_ “She had an abundance of love to give….No one was a truer servant of God than she.” _

_ Zelda nodded softly, wiping tears from her face as the woman pulled out a cloth to chase away her own tears.  _

_ “I’m pleased to know they didn’t follow her will’s request. I don’t know why such a holy woman would ask for such a thing. I just hope Father Xavier doesn’t plan to follow through with it in secret,” the woman confessed, her lip skewed with anger and sorrow.  _

_ Zelda frowned deeply, “What request?”  _

_ Father Xavier hadn’t told her of any request.  _

_ The woman seemed shocked she hadn’t heard, but like any good church going woman, couldn’t resist the pull of the tale, “She requested to be cremated. To join the ranks of the demons in hell!” _

_ Zelda’s heart stopped.  _

_ “What?” _

_ “I wish it was a jest, but it is not. I overheard Matthew’s wife Sara speak it to Cecile.” _

_ “She asked to be cremated?” _

_ “To join the devil.” _

_ The organ began to play and Father Xavier stepped up to the pulpit.  _

_ Zelda sat in her seat - stunned.  _

_ Dorothea had asked to be cremated? Why would she do that? Dorothea loved her god. Even within the short time they had known each other, anyone could have deduced as such. Why would she defy Him in her final moments?  _

_ The congregation stood and she stood with them. _

_ She looked down to the Bible in her hands and carefully opened it. True to Father Xavier’s promise, Dorothea’s handwriting was scrawled within the front cover to greet her.  _

_ “Dearest Zelda,  _

_ Against all that I’ve read and know I should follow and believe, _

_ I’ve loved y-” _

_ The sound of hooves hit the church stairs, struck Zelda’s gaze away from the page.  _

_ No. _

_ The smell of brimstone began to fill her nose and her hands began to shake as she tried to sneak past the woman beside her, but the woman was heavy with prayer and Zelda quickly moved to escape through the couple with their heads bowed.  _

_ She heard the hooves clang loudly against the door as she freed herself into the center aisle and Father Xavier’s prayer ceased.  _

_ The doors shuddered and Zelda froze, able to see the hellfire glow and smoke that seeped through the cracks between the wood.  _

_ “Margaret?” Father Xavier asked, his voice full of concern.  _

_ Zelda turned back to face him and the pulpit shot up in flames.  _

_ She cried out, jumping forward to reach the priest who was hidden behind the flames, but was immediately grabbed by the man who sat beside her.  _

_ “A WITCH!” _

_ Her blood ran cold as she clutched the Bible close to her chest, “WAIT! STOP! I DID-” _

_ The man quickly pushed her forwards, forcing her to her knees, his fist knotting in her curls as he pulled her head back. His shoe found her shoulder, pressing her shoulder away from her head as if to behead her.  _

_ Zelda dropped the book to push him back with magic, only to be grabbed by three other men, who lifted her up as she kicked her legs out, thrashing in their grip. “LET GO!” _

_ Her eyes found the Putnams, as her heel connected with one of the men’s groins. Young Jonathan looked at her with fear. His eyes full of horrified tears at the sight of what he thought to be an angel, now a temple burning demon.  _

_ Her gaze desperately searched for Matthew, the kindest of the brothers, but the eldest Putnam was already on his feet with the second brother and James, moving their grandmother away from the fire as Father Xavier moved away from the pulpit, coughing, his face burnt terribly. But he was alive! Praise, Satan.  _

_ The men pulled her back as the church around them moved into action! Bibles were thrown at her joining Dorothea’s on the floor as other members of the congregation dashed to get water to put out the quickly growing fire in the church. One Bible hit her hard in the abdomen and she doubled over, crying out in pain before screaming out the beginning of a spell before another hit her head and a rope came around her neck. The noose was tightened and her words were lost as she fought the men around her. Satan help her!  _

_ Suddenly, she was hit with a blunt object that cracked against her skull, sending her to the floor. She shot the Bibles out in all directions without thinking, shooting Dorothea’s into the flames. No! _

_ She lunged forward to grab it, but the rope was pulled back too quickly and her boots slipped on the bloody Bible pages beneath her, her chin hitting the floor between her hands. The Dark Lord had been right behind the door! Where was he!?  _

_ “SATAN, HELP ME!”  _

_ She heard the crack of a rifle being loaded and her eyes shot to the Putnams, where James stood in front of his grandmother’s body, loading her gun.  _

_ Father Xavier was on the other side of Dorothea, his hand out reaching, trying desperately to get past Sara and one of the other brother’s wives, but unable to speak through his hacking lungs.  _

_ One of the men pulled her neck back further, dragging her onto her back as two men grabbed her arms and another man grabbed her legs in an attempt to steady her as she fought.  _

_ She glimpsed the stained glass window. Her eyes welling with tears as she shot the men away with her mind yet again, one almost crashing into small Jonathan as his mother quickly scooped him into her arms to take him out of the church. Her eyes flitted to Dorothea’s corpse, encased in smoke as the church worked to put out the fire around her. _

_ “God, help me,” she prayed before the back of a crucifix came down hard against her back, giving the men just enough time to grab her again to take her outside.  _

_ The smell of fire and brimstone filled the air outside the church as she was dragged down the steps into the snow. The sky clouded with ash and smoke and lighting seared through the debris, cracking across the sky.  _

_ She should fight harder - magic herself away, but wasn’t sure she wanted to fight anymore.  _

_ Why should she?  _

_ She felt weak. _

_ She had always assured herself that she must be on this Earth to serve a greater purpose when things became bleak, but what could that greatest purpose be if the only person she’d ever loved lied in the building behind her dead? Who then was looking after her even if the Dark Lord had even abandoned her here? It was one thing to be mortal - to hope and pray a god existed as you cried for help in deepest tribulations, but it was another entirely to know your god existed and to be denied his assistance.  _

_ The men pushed her down in front of the church steps, a few moving to the side as James Putnam shifted Dorothea’s gun to square with his shoulder.  _

_ The funeral gowers who were not attempting to put out the fire, stood around to watch. _

_ She should push him back. She should move the gun.  _

_ She didn’t. _

_ Instead she stared down the barrel.  _

_ Dorothea, forgive her.  _

_ All those years ago, she should have stayed. _

_ Suddenly a bolt of lighting was cast down from the sky with ferocity enough to send all of the men back, desintegrating the noose, leaving only Zelda on the steps as Lucifer huffed behind her.  _

_ Fear overtook her.  _

_ “....Dark Lord?” _

_ He’d come for her. _

_ She was answered with a deep low rumbling growl.  _

_ He was unhappy with her - that was clear. _

_ She’d prayed to the false god and now he’d come for vengeance rather than deliverance.  _

_ She quickly stood and ran for the woods, with only the sound of a gunshot to follow her.  _

_ Lucky for her, James Putnam was not a good shot.  _

_ She could feel the bark of the tree beside her split and she ran faster! She heard another gunshot but didn’t hear it hit. Snow wet and chilled her feet, freezing her toes as it snuck into her boots, exposed by her lifted skirts.  _

_ She was stopped by a crack of lightning smiting the tree in front of her! The young witch spun around and stopped short, confronted with the large goat figure of her god. It was said that only those worthy to gaze upon his angelic form could do so, of course she was not worthy. She deserved his horns through her wanton throat for what she’d done. She’d walked into the false god’s church!  _

_ He snarled and lowered his head, exposing his large curling horns to her, not needing to speak to make his point known.  _

_ Zelda quickly dropped to her knees, bowing down to the Dark Lord, her nose buried in the snow as her tears turned to ice the second they emerged from her eyes.  _

_ “Please….Dark Lord….have mercy.” _

_ To die by his hoof would not have the swiftness of Dorothea Putnam’s rifle.  _

_ She could redeem herself if he’d give her a chance. _

_ “Please…” _

_ She could feel his searing breath on her hair as he leaned over her, his claws trailing over her back as he circled her folded form to stand behind her. Her torso rose at the beckon of his finger and her eyes shut tight.  _

_ Forgive me, Dark Lord. Forgive my fickle heart. _

_ He had given her so many gifts. So many delicious gifts and she had doubted him. She had prayed to the false god. She had walked into a mortal church.  _

_ How could she have done that?! _

_ She had loved a mortal woman. _

_ Why had she allowed herself to commit such a sin. _

_ As much as her heart begged for the deceased woman, she understood now that his law was not out of cruelty, but out of love. Her Dark Lord forbade the union out of mercy not cruelty. She could see it now. How could she have been so blind? How could she have been so weak?!  _

_ “Dark Lord if you spare me I will serve you to my dying day. To Lucifer I dedicate my mind and body. I will not fail you again. I swear it!” _

_ His long hot fingers cupped her chin and cheek. _

_ She braced herself and her tears fell faster. _

_ He wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek and then was gone.  _

_ Her breath escaped her lungs in one large gust as she collapsed back into the snow. Her tears fell faster as sobs wracked her body. He had spared her. She had failed him, but he had spared her. She would not fail him again.  _

_ *** _

_ Everything was finally still and quiet as Zelda sat at the base of a tree a distance away from the church, but close enough to watch its happenings. She’d taken her feet out of her freezing boots, instead wrapping them in her skirts, her cold red fingers squeezing her toes. She couldn’t quite feel her fingers through her toes and knew she should build a fire, but that would require moving further into the woods and she wanted to watch.  _

_ In the churchyard the Putnam Boys were digging a grave as the Putnam Wives, Jonathan, and Father Xavier watched. Bandages covered Father Xavier’s face, but his cough seemed to have dissipated for the most part. Jonathan held his fox stuffed animal close, sniffling as he watched his father and uncles dig.  _

_ She did her best to ignore her own sniffles. They were futile. She was a witch and nothing could have been different because of it. She couldn’t be anything other than a witch, it was in her blood - in the very chemical makeup of her body - and there was no changing it. This couldn’t have ended any other way. This should have ended with her death as well considering her betrayal of the Dark Lord. He had been more merciful to her than she deserved.  _

_ Zelda’s sore scraped chin rested against her knees and she noticed Dorothea’s feet had been burnt in the fire. She wanted to pray to Dorothea’s god, or to her own to beg that Dorothea’s soul not suffer on behalf of Zelda’s transgressions. That Dorothea’s god allow her entrance into his gates despite her charred body. The witch shouldn’t have attended the church in the first place. It was her fault. Witches were not to interfere with mortal affairs. But, she dare not pray in fear of angering either god, in fear of inciting the opposite reaction.  _

_ She tried to ignore the loneliness that continued to gnaw at her heart as she watched the still form of the old woman. At least she would be able to go home to Hilda and Edward after retrieving her things from the church cellar - if Father Xavier didn’t have her suitcase burned before nightfall. She wouldn’t be able to tell her sister of any of this, but perhaps she could convince her sister to make a small cake. They hadn’t been able to celebrate her birthday after all.  _

**_“Oh...and happy birthday, Darling.”_ **

_ Zelda wiggled her toes a bit, ignoring her trembling jaw as she watched the boys carefully lower Dorothea down into her grave, each of the Putnam’s throwing a ceremonial handful of cold dirt into the grave before they began to bury the corpse. She could feel a trail of snot starting to ooze beyond her nose and quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of her dress, sniffing quietly. At least Dorothea would be buried with a mix of snow.  _

_ She only had to wait a few hours more before all signs of life had left the graveyard and the church asleep. Zelda slowly rose, her joints chipping like ice as she moved them. Soon she would be gone.  _

_ She was surprised that Father Xavier wouldn’t let the Putnam Boys lock the cellar. She’d heard him state that he was sure he’d seen James hit her and that she was sure to be dead in the woods with this chill by now, and therefore, there was no use in locking the cellar. She was surprised, but grateful as she took up her suitcase, filling it with Dorothea’s furs despite her promise to the Dark Lord. She thought about leaving the rabbit toy, going as far as taking a few steps up to leave the cellar without it, but then thought better and retrieved it. _

_ Slowly she emerged from the cellar - confronted with the fresh snow coated grave.  _

_ She walked up to it, hot tears coursing down her frozen cheeks as the toes of her smart boots stopped just short of the raised dirt. Her eyes shut, but that only sent tears down her cheeks faster, stinging her chin with salt before she lowered her body from her knees to take up a handful of snow, rising to sprinkle it over the grave. _

_ “...I’m sorry, Dora….. You deserved a better love than me. I pray your god will give you that. Even….after everything I know…..and have promised. I love you. I’m sorry for that. Goodbye, my Darling………..Goodbye.” _

__

_ *** _

Theo didn’t have time to speak before the ghost of his Aunt Dorothea quickly erased the distance between her and the witch beside him, taking Zelda’s face in her hands as if she could wipe away the fresh tears that cascaded down the witch’s cheeks.

Zelda Spellman looked up into the air with shock, choking on a sob as she gazed into the nothingness before her.

Theo frowned deeply and opened his mouth, “She says-”

Zelda’s hand quickly shot out almost striking him but missed by a few inches as she jumped off the bed, smearing away her tears. “NO! Don’t tell me what she says!”

Dorothea quickly grabbed the witch’s skirt and the witch shot forward, quickly snatching the furs, before throwing them down onto the floor of her closet.

Theo exchanged a panicked look with this Aunt and began to speak her words as she spoke, “She says that she loves-”

Theo’s throat was suddenly in Zelda’s hand and he looked up at her fearfully.

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT SHE SAYS! DON’T SPEAK ANOTHER WORD! I shouldn’t have told you! I should have just wiped your memory in the cemetery and left it at that! Oh, Satan!” 

“Aunt Zelda! She’s not saying anything bad! She says she l-”

He froze as she clamped her hand over his mouth harshly, “HUSH! I can’t...I’m sorry, Theo. This is my fault. I should never have let myself become so weak again. I’m sorry, Dora. I’m so sorry.……..Bless your mind, bless your heart, let these painful thoughts depart -”


End file.
